


Hate Songs

by theflamingfangirl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Closeted Character, Gay Male Character, Hate Sex, Love/Hate, M/M, Post-Break Up, Songwriting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-05-16 23:29:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5845129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theflamingfangirl/pseuds/theflamingfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek's break up was messy, to say the least. And the secret break up of a secret relationship manifests in the form of lots of indirect aggression and when you are both successful musicians, this means a highly publicized feud and writing vaguely worded hate songs</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I hate you and the gay thoughts I feel when I'm around you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> because breakups are awkward

“No.”

 

“Stiles you have to go.”

 

“I told you, no.”

 

“Oh come on,” Lydia sighed. “I know for a fact you like playing festivals and the band will get great publicity. Not to mention we agreed to go months ago and we will be sued if we don’t show up.”

 

Stiles groaned loudly and looked towards Scott and Allison for moral support. They wore identical apologetic expressions, so Stiles knew what they were going to say before they spoke.

 

“Sorry man,” Scott said sheepishly, “I’m with Lydia on this one, it’s the first festival of the summer season and we need to drum up a little excitement before we drop any new songs.”

 

“And you like Twin Moons,” Allison added. “You said literally like last week that it was your favorite music festival.”

 

“Yeah well that was before I knew the Halefire jackass squad was coming,” Stiles shot back, glowering at the room full of apparent traitors. “My _terrible_ manager didn’t inform me until today.”

 

Lydia sighed with the exasperation of the over worked nanny of a very bratty child, “Like I’ve told you, I didn’t know they were coming until literally forty minutes ago, there was a last minute cancellation and Halefire was available, so can we please stop acting like the issue here is a slight change in schedule?”

 

There was an uncomfortable silence in the bus. Scott and Allison glanced at each other nervously. Stiles hadn’t really understood the term ‘elephant in the room’ until a couple months ago, now it felt like every damn day had a conversation made incredibly awkward by the looming presence of that motherfucking elephant. In the back of his mind he realized the continued refusal was just going to make things more awkward, but the idea of being in the same city as Derek Hale, let alone on the same stage not twenty minutes after, made Stiles want to jump from the moving bus.

 

“If you flake out on me right now, we will all be sued,” Lydia repeated. “I will be fired, never find work again, and live on the streets. Do you want to be the one responsible for me living in a refrigerator box, Stiles?”

 

“Ok, so maybe it won’t be that dramatic,” Alison cut in, “but what Lydia is trying to say, is that this is a really bad time for you to take a stand and you would really be letting us all down.”

 

“And it’s been, what, two months?” Scott added. “More? Don’t you think that’s long enough that you can be at the same event as the guy?”

 

Somewhere, deep down, Stiles knew his friends were right, but he still wasn’t happy about it. He figured that if he could avoid seeing any members of Halefire the entire weekend, he might not die before Monday. Sure, Derek was a huge dick and the worst person on the entire planet, but Indigo Pack was doing great, the fan base was only growing and a shit ton of hot girls wanted to get in Stiles’ pants. He had literally everything going for him right now. He didn’t need that dick bag. Fuck Derek Hale.

 

“Fine,” Stiles grumbled. “I’ll go. But that doesn’t mean I wont complain the entire time.”

 

“Is that different than usual?” Kira yelled from the back of the bus.

 

“Eavesdropping is rude!” Stiles shouted back. He looked at Scott. “I’m not okay with this, and I hate you all.”

 

“Atta boy” Scott said, slapping him on the back. “This is going to be fun; we won’t even have to see them.”

 

* * *

 

 

“What do you mean we have to do a press conference together?” Derek demanded. “You said that if I agreed to come today, there would be no contact.”

 

“I’m sorry!” Jackson said, looking not even remotely sorry. “I thought you wouldn’t have to, but the press is really eating up the feud you’ve got going on with Indigo Pack and I couldn’t pass up that publicity.”

 

“Oh and this has nothing to do with all the time you’ll be spending behind the scenes with Lydia?” Derek said accusingly.

 

Jackson smiled. “Now you’re getting it.”

 

“I’m not putting on some show for the media so you can secretly meet up with your girlfriend,” Derek grumbled. “Just call her like a normal fucking person.”

 

“Please, you know this is going to be really good for the band,” Jackson said. “If you two can express even a shadow of the pent up hatred you have for each other on camera, people will talk about this for weeks. From a PR perspective, this is a total win. It’s exactly the press we need to promote the new single.”

 

“You are a terrible person,” Derek responded.

 

Derek wanted to storm off, but they were in a hotel room and there really wasn’t anywhere for him to go, so he went and locked himself in the bathroom. He could hear Erica and Jackson arguing outside about some outfit change that she didn’t approve of so he probably had a solid fifteen minutes before Jackson or anyone else would come and bother him. He would rather shave off his eyebrows than talk to Stiles on camera, they hadn’t so much as texted in almost three months and Derek sure as hell didn’t feel the need to talk to him anytime soon.

 

Derek sat down on the edge of the bathtub and flipped through his twitter, it was littered with notifications from fans tweeting about the band, people with usernames like therealmrshale and halefireforlife. God Derek never thought he would be the kind of guy with a fan base. He felt super cheesy even saying the words ‘fans’. Sure, he loved his job, but he never really got used to people recognizing him in public or making him sign their posters or face or baby or something. Being a musician was cool; being a public figure was a lot less cool. Boyd, Isaac, and Erica loved doing meet and greets and all that, but Derek was known as somewhat of a recluse, because every time he did leave his apartment, everyone wanted a picture with Derek Hale. The public, of course, loved that he was so private. It let people speculate wildly on the details of his personal life. It seemed there was an article out every week on what he was doing or who he was dating, though they were practically never even remotely accurate. The press called him mysterious and brooding, which he supposed made a better headline than ‘socially awkward’ would have.

 

“Hey Derek,” Erica shouted through the door. “Open the door. I need the mirror.”

 

“There’s like two other bathrooms in the suite,” Derek replied. “And you have your own room.”

 

“Yeah but all my stuff’s in here,” Erica insisted. “Open up.”

 

Derek sighed in resignation and opened the door.

 

“Thank you,” Erica said, walking to the counter to put on her makeup. Blood red lipstick had become kind of Erica’s trademark over the years. She claimed it gave her luck, so she wore it in every show. MAC had named a color after her, and had run an ad campaign featuring Erica with leather and stilettos holding large knives and looking threatening. Not that Erica needed knives to look threatening. Even wearing pajamas and holding a puppy, she had a certain severity to her face that made her not someone you’d want to meet in a dark alley.

 

“You aren’t really going to lock yourself in the bathroom and miss the press conference, are you?” Erica asked. “Because that would be a total dick move.”

 

“Do we even need press?” Derek countered. “We’re already popular.”

 

“Popular is one step away from irrelevance,” Erica replied nonchalantly. “It’s been almost a year since our last album came out and the hype is dying down.”

 

“Like four songs from the album are still getting radio play on a bunch of indie stations and ‘Kind of Mine’ played on that top pop hits station all last week,” Derek responded.

 

“Well I didn’t say the hype is dead, I said it’s dying,” Erica huffed. “And Indigo Pack has five songs on Alt Rock top 25.”

 

Derek scowled. “I thought we agreed not to mention them.”

 

“Dude, we’ve been tiptoeing around this for months,” Erica said. “It’s time to get over it and face the facts. You can’t spend your whole life avoiding Stilinski, okay? We need press, and this little meeting will get us that. All you have to do is smile for the camera and make a few suggestive statements about hating Indigo Pack or whatever. It will take fifteen minutes and then you can hide in your apartment for a month.”

 

Derek sighed and left the bathroom to find Jackson. He was on the phone, but hung up when he saw Derek. “So?”

 

“You owe me,” Derek said, “but I’ll do it.”

 

“I know,” Jackson agreed. “I already released that you would.”

 

“Of course you did,” Derek sighed. “Hey, how did Lydia get Stiles to agree to this?”

 

Jackson grinned wickedly. “She didn’t exactly.”

 

* * *

 

It was honestly hard to stay mad at Scott and Allison for too long.  Scott did have the large, innocent eyes of a baby cow and watching them fail miserably at trying to throw grapes into each others mouths was unfortunately very endearing. He had been watching them do nothing but be delightful for like two hours and it was honestly becoming unbearable. Scott and Allison were one of the cutest couples Stiles had ever known. Both of them were annoyingly good people with hearts of gold and did, in fact, combine to make a literal ray of sunshine anytime they were around each other. Scott and Allison were both so unbearably pleasant that it really put a damper on Stiles commitment to sulking. He looked out the window at the flawless weather and then back at Scott and Allison, who were exchanging dimpled smiles and holding hands, and went to go sit with Liam and Kira, who were playing a highly competitive game of boggle in the back of the bus.

 

“How much longer until we get there?” Stiles asked, slumping onto the bench next to Kira.

 

“Maps says five minutes,” Kira replied, staring at the boggle cube. “Um… ‘rat.’”

 

“Yeah but there’s traffic, so probably more,” Liam commented. “Oh! I found ‘baby!’”

 

Kira scowled down at the letters. “How would you know you can’t even drive.”

 

“You still don’t have your license?” Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s been what, a year?”

 

“I’ve spent the last year doing this shit with all of you,” Liam replied with a shrug. “I don’t have any time to go to the DMV. So we don’t need to bring it up twice a day like it’s a personal failure.”

 

“I’ve got ‘cats,’” Kira announced. Liam cursed under his breath.

 

“The rest of us managed,” Stiles pointed out.

 

“Yeah but you were all sixteen way before _She Likes the Thrill_ got popular,” Liam said. “I doubt it would have been an issue for any of you to learn to drive while we were still playing in bars… um… ‘rard.’”

 

“‘Rard’ is not a word, Liam,” Kira said. “You can’t make up words when you’re losing.”

 

“It’s a word,” Liam shot back.

 

Kira smirked. “Oh really? What does it mean?”

 

“A rard is a… plant that grows in… Australia,” Liam said vaguely.

 

“Nice try, buddy,” Kira said.

 

“A valiant effort,” Stiles added.

 

The bus slowed rapidly and turned, causing Stiles to stumble forward into the bench. He looked out the window to see they were entering the festival grounds, the outside was littered with teens wearing flower crowns and leather backpacks and probably smoking lots of weed. Man, Stiles loved festivals. Liam, Kira, and Stiles made their way back up to the front of the bus to get their schedule from Lydia.

 

“Alright guys, we’re running a little late so we didn’t have time to stop and check in at the hotel. You guys can change into one of the outfits I have _already approved_ , I’m looking at you Liam, and we’re going to head over to a short press conference. It starts in like fifteen so let’s go.” She said, spinning on her heels and walking out of the bus

 

“Wait, what press conference?” Stiles asked as literally everyone ignored him. “No one told me about a press conference.”

 

“If you don’t get dressed now Lydia’s going to be super pissed.” Allison responded, rummaging through her bag

 

“Ok, but since when are we doing a press conference? Scott did you know about this?” Stiles asked again

 

“What?” Scott shouted back as though he hadn’t heard the question, even though he was standing three feet away.

 

Stiles pulled on a shirt he was pretty sure Lydia liked and fixed his hair. He was 99% sure he would have remembered a press conference being mentioned. Sure he wasn’t the most organized guy, but he had been sulking alone with his thoughts for like two hours and Stiles felt like he would have realized.

 

The band exited the bus with two of their security guards in case they were spontaneously ambushed by an aggressive group of fans, but every seemed to keep their distance. A girl screamed that she loved him but didn’t try and approach, so that was a plus. They made their way towards a large stage with way more people than Stiles was expecting gathered out front

 

“Dude, what is this panel on?” Stiles asked. “There are like three hundred people out there, are we dropping an album or something? Are you an Allison fake breaking up again?”

 

Scott laughed “No way are we doing that again.”

 

Stiles spotted Jackson pushing through the crowd to talk to Lydia.

 

“Hey we’re all good on my end, have you dropped the bomb on doucheface yet?” Jackson said.

 

“What the _fuck,_ ” Stiles shouted.

 

Lydia pulled him aside. “So here’s the deal. I may have agreed to do a press conference with Halefire regarding your feud.”

 

“NO”

“Yep it’s starting now have fun, make me proud!” she said shoving him onto the stage

 

And suddenly the air was filled with the high pitched screams of tons of fans.

 

* * *

 

 

Despite Derek’s best efforts and thorough mental preparation, his heart dropped into his stomach when he saw Stiles, looking murderous and scowling aggressively. Stiles glanced over to Derek and they locked eyes for a moment. Derek could see Stiles eyes going wide with something like fear, but he looked away too quickly for Derek to really get a vibe from him. Whatever. Stiles could go fuck himself honestly. Derek took a seat next to Erica at the table on the right side of the stage, Indigo Pack sat at an identical table on the left.

 

Derek vaguely recognized that an announcer had started speaking, telling everyone a little about the band and the controversy and their twitter feud or whatever. In the past month, other band members had given statements regarding the origin of the feud, lying about song stealing or contracts or just general dislike. Derek had been declining to comment so far, but he guessed this panel was Jackson’s twisted way of forcing him to talk about it. After the brief introduction, the moderator opened up to questions from the audience.

 

A blond reporter in the second row was the first to ask a question. “So Kira, you’ve always been really honest with your fans: tell us in your words how this rivalry started.”

 

“Well there’s always been a bit of competition between Indigo Pack and Halefire because we occupy a similar niche in the music industry. Our music is constantly compared, so I think it’s only natural that there would be friction,” Kira answered smoothly.

 

“Yes but you guys really only started going at each other in the past few months,” a tall man near the back shouted. “There must have been something that set you off.”

 

Kira shot a quick, but unmistakable, glance at Stiles. “Well… I guess it was… not anything in particular. Or I don’t know exactly what happened. It wasn’t a really… sudden thing.”

 

“But it was sudden,” a woman in a baseball cap countered. “Just a few months ago you were seen hanging out together, there were even rumors about touring with each other. What happened since then?”

 

A man in a polo shirt shouted over her “Stiles, you’re notoriously a ladies man, were you ever worried about competition for your position as the hot bachelor of the tour?”

 

Derek clenched his jaw.

 

Stiles laughed a little awkwardly, “Oh man, I never had anything to worry about, never any real competition there. I do just fine, if you know what I mean. And you guys have to remember, I am dating my amazing talented manager Lydia Martin.”

 

There was a small chorus of “aww” from the crowd and Derek rolled his eyes.

 

The woman in the baseball hat shouted again, “If not that, then why did the feud start?”

 

“Let’s hear from someone from Halefire to see if we can get a clearer picture,” a reporter interjected. “Isaac, what’s your version of the story?”

 

Erica gave great answers on camera, Boyd could always be trusted to give vague, nondescript answers that revealed nothing, but the moment Isaac was called on, Derek knew they were fucked.

 

“Oh, I, um, think it… is music related,” Isaac stuttered, visibly sweating. “It is maybe also… not music related? As in both related and at the same time not related to music. Um… yeah.”

 

“You say the conflict is partially ‘not music related’, can you elaborate on that?” the same reporter continued.

 

“Um, I guess so,” Isaac said reluctantly. “I just feel like there was a, um, a certain level of… disrespect? I guess? Yeah there was disrespect and… meanness coming from certain members of the um… other guys. Indigo Pack.”

 

“Which certain members?”

 

Isaac looked around in a panic. “I actually don’t know all the details, but it may or may not have possibly, maybe have been… potentially Stiles?”

 

The crowd erupted in murmurs.

 

“Excuse you?” Stiles said.

 

Derek groaned internally. _‘Here we go,’_ he thought.

 

“I think I know what Isaac is referring to, Halefire was being exceptionally selfish and wasn’t respecting the needs of Indigo Pack regarding the, um, tour, despite the clear arrangements that had already been made,” Stiles continued.

 

That was it. Now Stiles was just asking for it.

 

 “I actually think what Isaac was talking about was that Indigo Pack was acting like children and only considering their needs, and Halefire was fed up with their bullshit.” Derek retorted sharply, glaring at Stiles, who looked like he was going to burst into flames.

 

Stiles stood up, as Scott tried to yank him back into his seat by his shirt sleeve. “Hmm, let me think… oh right, no! That’s _not_ what happened. The real problem was that Halefire was acting really immature and stubborn and refusing to see the big picture. About any collaboration between the two bands, that is.”

 

“I think what Stiles is trying to say is that there were some creative differences that we just couldn’t reconcile,” Allison interrupted.

 

“Or should we say, Halefire _wouldn’t_ reconcile these, shall we say, creative differences,” Stiles added.

 

Derek took a deep breath. “Yeah, you see, Halefire values integrity and authenticity, and that’s something we really couldn’t compromise on.”

 

“Oh, really?” Stiles said. “Well Indigo Pack couldn’t compromise on Halefire’s boring music and terrible faces. So why don’t you-”

 

“Alright, it’s been so great talking to you all,” Scott interrupted, smiling through his teeth. “We’re all really excited to play an awesome show for you guys! See you all tomorrow at eight on the Toyota Stage!”

 

“And we’ll see you at seven! Thanks guys!” Boyd said, waving.

 

Derek smirked as Scott, still smiling, dragged Stiles off the stage.

 

* * *

 

 

“Fuck that guy!” Stiles hissed to Scott and a clearly startled Liam when they got back stage.

 

Lydia appeared from behind them. “That was spectacular. Everything I hoped for and more.”

 

“Lydia, did you _watch_ the press conference?” Kira asked incredulously. “That was a disaster.”

 

“Um, yeah. It was exactly the shit show I was planning on,” Lydia answered. “Do you honestly think people care about information about the band? This is entertainment, not the evening news. People want to see a spectacle. Which, thanks to Stiles’ little outburst, is exactly what they got.”

 

“You’re a dick, Lydia,” Stiles shot back.

 

“Is that how you want to talk to your fake girlfriend?” Lydia responded, raising an eyebrow. “I could break up with you and let the media get on your back about that again.”

 

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “Oh yeah let’s pretend you weren’t just having a quickie with Jackson Whittemore in the bus.”

 

“Was not,” Lydia retorted.

 

“Oh really? Your skirt’s on backward.”

 

Lydia looked down quickly and Stiles laughed. “Wow, I was joking, but the fact that you had to check is confirmation enough.”

 

“Oh shut up,” Lydia said. “You guys are all checked in to the hotel, let’s go.”

 

Stiles cursed the entire way onto the bus and the entire ride to the hotel. Scott gave him a couple supportive pats on the back, which he appreciated, but he really wasn’t in the mood for company. He logged on to Twitter to find that #stilesvsderek was trending. To some degree, it was cool that they were trending – Lydia was right; the publicity was good for the band – but Stiles was mostly still annoyed that he was tricked into seeing his nemesis by surprise. He scrolled through the tag searching for #teamstiles tweets to reaffirm his beliefs that he was right and Derek was a huge bag of dicks. Honestly the split seemed to be about fifty-fifty. He threw his phone down and continued to curse, now with much more volume and enthusiasm. They pulled into the back of the hotel, to the space where the bus could unload. The bus slowed to a stop, but the doors stayed shut.

 

“Alright what’s the hold up.” Stiles grumbled, craning his neck to see why they would be keeping them inside a stopped bus. In front of them was another bus, it was black and it read-

 

“NO,” Stiles shouted. “NO NO NO.”

 

“What’s the matter dude,” Scott, said, looking concerned. He saw what Stiles was staring at. “Oh…no…”

 

It was the Halefire tour bus.

 

“You know what?” Stiles asked, still talking was louder than was appropriate. “I’m _glad_ they’re here! Yep! I can go tell Douche-rek Hale what I think of the cute little stunt he pulled today at the press conference. I’ll tell that asshole where he can go stick his ‘creative differences.’”

 

“Please don’t,” Scott said weakly. “This isn’t good for you.”

 

“What’s not good for me is that I’m still on this GOD DAMN BUS when I could be punching Derek in his stupid face,” Stiles shouted.

 

The bus doors screeched open.

 

“Fucking finally!” Stiles said, ignoring Scott’s half hearted grabs at his arms, and following the Hale entourage into the hotel. He couldn’t see Derek, or any members of Halefire for that matter, so he scanned the lobby for someone in Derek’s entourage who looked young and easily manipulated.

 

“Hey man,” Stiles said to a nervous looking teenager carrying a clipboard. “What room is Derek Hale in? I have to give him something.”

 

The intern’s eyes went wide “You’re-”

 

“I sure am, bucko, now what’s the room number” He snapped back.

 

“I don’t think I’m really allowed-,” The intern stammered

 

“Here,” Stiles said, shoving some money into the kid’s clammy palm. “Tell me the room number.”

 

“This… This is a five-dollar bill and an expired coupon, sir.”

 

“I don’t carry a lot of cash, just tell me!” Stiles repeated.

 

“I think Derek is in 326, the rest of the band is out though, so he might be meeting up with them or-”

 

Stiles pushed past him and stormed over to the elevator, jamming the elevator button repetitively until the doors opened.

 

Who did Derek Hale think he was honestly? Stiles was really done with him this time. After today, he was probably never going to talk to him again, he thought bitterly as he scanned the doors for room 326. There. He began knocking as loudly and obnoxiously as he could until the door swung open.

 

“What’s happening?” Derek said, he looked at Stiles dumbfounded. “What are you doing here Stiles?”

 

“More like what were you doing at that press conference.” Stiles hissed, pushing into his room and pulling the door closed behind him. “We stopped, you know, hanging out like _three months_ ago. You can’t just go slamming me in the press talking about how I’m selfish or whatever. You are such an asshole really, where the fuck do you get off?”

 

“Me?” Derek asked defensively. “You’re the one who lost it first, not me, not to mention I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. You _are_ self involved and you _do_ lack integrity and you _are_ fake.”

 

Stiles scoffed. “Oh my god, do you even hear yourself? You are so insufferably whiny and bossy. If you could just mind your own fucking business-”

 

“Oh alright,” Derek interrupted sarcastically. “Because my personal life isn’t my own business, no one can know I’m gay because it’s not my business.”

 

Stiles turned away.

 

“Oh I’m sorry I forgot that we aren’t ‘allowed’ to say that word. Gay gay gay. I am gay, I don’t even care anymore it doesn’t affect you. It _never_ affected you.”

 

“Yeah, but it would affect me. We were together a lot; I couldn’t hang out with you anymore without people getting ideas or butting into my life. So yeah, then your sexual preferences aren’t just _your_ business, Derek.”

 

“Come on; nobody was trying to out you, asshole.” Derek crossed his arms angrily. “Just because you’re too afraid to tell people you like a certain _quality_ in the people you date, namely the quality of being male, doesn’t mean _I_ should have to stay closeted until I die. And you don’t get to be all hurt because I don’t want to spend my whole life having sex in the back of cars with some guy who won’t stand close to me in public.”

 

“I can’t come out now, we just started getting popular. I would let down the whole band.”

 

“Oh please,” Derek rolled his eyes “Your friends would love you to come out, don’t act like Scott wouldn’t throw you a rainbow themed blowout and call you an inspiration or something.”

 

“Maybe I don’t want to be an inspiration, I just want to make music and have the press stay out of my sex life.” Stiles said

 

“What a cliché”

 

“Oh well fuck you very much,” Stiles said, shoving him backwards

 

“Wouldn’t you like that,” Derek said sarcastically, leaning in until he was just inches from Stiles’ face

 

The sudden proximity made Stiles too preoccupied to come up with anything especially witty. Stiles could smell Derek’s cologne; it was a familiar scent that made him feel nostalgic, kind of sad, and most of all very horny. He tried to avoid looking at Derek’s lips but failed dramatically, eyes running over every crease and edge and dip, the air between them felt electrically charged.

 

Although he would deny it if anyone asked, Stiles definitely kissed him first.

 

When Stiles was twelve, his doctor and dad put him on this experimental no gluten, no refined sugars diet to see if it would help with his hyperactivity. This diet lasted for about six weeks, and man, it was strict. Scott was totally on board too, so Stiles couldn’t even so much as get near a whole grain bread roll, let alone have anything delicious. After six weeks of what was essentially torture, the doctor decided to take him off the diet and try some new behavioral therapy instead, so Stiles’ dad took him out to milkshakes and chocolate cake to celebrate. The first bite tasted like Jesus Christ himself had blessed Stiles and he had transcended into a new realm of bliss.

 

This felt like just like that moment. Only ten times better and about one thousand time hotter

 

He moved his hands over every familiar curve and muscle in Derek’s back, drew his hands across his chest and down his hips.  Stiles was trying to work through how he was going to play this cool, pretend he hadn’t been jacking off to the thought of this for months. Derek’s lips moved from his mouth and down his neck, Stiles exhaled sharply as Derek grazed his teeth along Stiles’ collarbone. A small part of his mind said ‘don’t do this Stiles, this is a bad idea’ but that was almost completely tuned out by the rest of his mind, which was just a chorus of ‘yes yes yes yes.’ His dick was also rock hard against his jeans so that pretty much sealed the deal. Derek pushed him down onto the bed and began to rock down against him, and _fuck_ , cause that felt awesome. He was really into that. Maybe a little too into that actually.

 

“Dude, slow down or I’m going to come in my pants,” Stiles breathed, pushing him off a little.

 

Derek just grinned. “So much for stamina.”

 

“Oh fuck off,” Stiles said, flipping Derek down and climbing on top of him.

 

He pulled off Derek’s shirt and his own, and kissed and mouthed his way down Derek’s ridiculous six pack. He could feel Derek’s heartbeat beneath his lips. Stiles bring his hand down to Derek’s button and zipper and yanks off his jeans and boxers

 

His dick is hard and slick at the tip, Derek groaned when Stiles got his hand around it. Stiles really wanted to suck his dick. It would look super desperate, but he decided to just go with it.

 

Stiles probably should have been acting a little more composed, given the nature of the situation, but god damn he was horny as fuck and honestly not going to last much longer so he had to get Derek there too or that was going to be hella embarrassing.

 

Derek smirked at him as Stiles wrapped his lips around his dick. Fuck him, he hollowed his cheeks in a particularly hard suck, making Derek groan loudly. Who’s laughing now? Stiles moved his tongue up the underside of his dick and tries every stellar blowjob trick he knows. He knew pretty much all of Derek’s tells and preferences, so it wasn’t hard to get him into it. Stiles used his free hand to unbutton his own pants. He started grinding up against the bed slightly, and yeah, that felt good. Derek started moaning softly, low in his throat, which meant he was close, which was good, because Stiles maybe had another minute left in him.

 

He climbed off of Derek, who then promptly flipped him onto his back, getting both of their dicks into his hand and jerking them together. Stiles moaned loudly as he felt the heat pooling low in his stomach. When he came, he actually may have died a little bit inside and gone to heaven, because shit, that was amazing.

 

They both lay there for a couple seconds, a little light-headed, before the waves of bad decision hit him. Stiles clenched and unclenched his jaw. Shit. What did he just do? He sat up and re buttoned his pants and grabbed his shirt off the floor.

 

“So that was… fun,” Stiles said slowly, avoiding eye contact.

 

Derek grumbled and pulled his shirt back on.

 

“Hey.” Stiles grabbed his shoulder. “You know you can’t tell anyone about this, right?”

 

Derek rolled his eyes. “Of course that’s your first concern. Just go, Stiles.”

 

“Yep, on my way.” He yanked his shirt on over his head and slipped out of the room.

 

* * *

 

 

Scott was watching TV when Stiles finally walked in to their hotel room.

 

Scott looked over his shoulder. “Dude, where’ve you been?”

 

“Um, out,” Stiles said, taking off his coat.

 

“Out?” Scott scoffed. “It’s almost midnight: you’ve been ‘out’ for like four hours. What have you been doing”

 

Stiles shrugged. “Uh, not too much. I went to a bar. Had a few beers. Watched the game.”

 

“What game is on right now?” Scott asked.

 

“Ah, well, it wasn’t a game so much as youth gymnastics nationals, a replay actually. It was on earlier today.” Stiles admitted, sitting next to Scott on the couch. “Those children are tiny, but so strong.”

 

“And why were you watching children doing backflips in a bar by yourself all night?” Scott asked.

 

“You know, just wanted to clear my head,” Stiles said, looking up at the ceiling to see if there was maybe some more convincing bullshit he could throw at Scott.

 

Stiles leaned against the wall in what he hoped was a casual and non suspicious way. Scott narrowed his eyes suspiciously. They’d been best friends for fifteen years and Scott was really good at figuring out when Stiles was hiding something.

 

“You stormed off earlier to confront Derek, right?” Scott asked. Shit.

 

“Huh?” Stiles asked, suddenly very focused on the TV. “Oh right, yeah. He wasn’t in his room, actually.”

 

“Mhmm,” Scott responded skeptically. “Show me your neck.”

 

Stiles laughed. “What? What are you talking about?”

 

“Your collar is popped. You heard me.”

 

“No!” Stiles snapped. “What’s wrong with you, man? Its stylish! I’m trying out a new thing. Stop!”

 

Scott reached over and pulled Stiles’ shirt collar down, getting a short look at his neck before Stiles swatted his hands away. “Jesus Scott, what are you doing?”

 

“Stiles no!” Scott groaned. “Guess we know why you needed to clear your head with elaborate floor routines. Is Derek covered in hickies too, or was it more of a one-way arrangement?”

 

“Shut up, man,” Stiles shot back. “It’s not what you think.”

 

“Oh so you’re telling me you _didn’t_ go find Derek in his hotel room, yell at him about the press conference, and then hook up with him?” Scott folded his arms. “Well? Did you?”

 

Stiles looked away. “No?”

 

“Stiles.”

 

“… So what if I did though? It was a one time moment of weakness; it won’t happen again.”

  
Scott groaned again loudly. “That’s bullshit, man. You know that’s not good for you.”

 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Please, I’m fine. I don’t even really care about him. It’s whatever.”

 

Scott raised his eyebrows accusingly. “It’s ‘whatever’? You don’t even care?”

 

“Nah, man,” Stiles shrugged. “I’m _fine._ It’s not like I would ever go all crybaby over that asshole. I don’t care, never did.”

 

Scott looked a him incredulously. He walked over to his laptop and started typing.

 

“Hey what are you doing, man? Are you- oh come on, Scott. I don’t think we need that.” Stiles protested, walking over to him

 

“‘Totally fine’. Yeah right,” Scott muttered pulling up the video “‘Never cared’, my ass.”

 

“We don’t need to watch-” Stiles objected.

 

The video began. It pictured Stiles sitting in his pajamas with unwashed hair and puffy eyes, holding a guitar. He looked terrible, and Stiles knew for a fact that he had filmed this video on day three of no sleep, no shower, and no leaving the house and that he was drunk as fuck.

 

 _“This is a song I wrote for the new album,”_ Video Stiles croaked, drinking directly out of a bottle of vodka. _“I hope you like it.”_

_“I am dropping down into the void_

_Life has lost its light and now I fall to the dark_

_I live out of convenience not spirit_

_Nothing means a god damn thing_

_You left a hole in me that all the life is spilling out of_

_And I know see the truth, that happiness is an illusion”_

The singing and guitar stopped and as Video Stiles began weeping aggressively.

 

“ _I miss him so much,”_ Video Stiles wailed.

 

Stiles closed the laptop. “Ok. That’s enough; I get it.”

 

“Do you?” Scott asked. “Dude, you were a mess after that thing ended. Like seriously, I was concerned for your wellbeing. I don’t think any of our friends wants to see you like that again, especially me. You’re my best friend and I really don’t want you to go through that again.”

 

“Jesus, Scott,” Stiles said. “It’s not like I’m marrying him. We hooked up. That’s it.”

 

“Well I hope this is a one-time thing,” Scott said. “I mean, Derek seemed pretty firm on staying broken up unless you’re planning on coming out-”

 

“Nope,” Stiles interrupted. “We are not discussing that topic.”

 

“Come on Stiles, I think that this is something we should be able to talk about.” Scott pried further, which really wasn’t surprising, as Scott was always dying to talk about love and Stiles’ feelings.

 

“No, I would prefer to continue avoiding the subject, why mess with a good thing? Let’s just drop it.”

 

“Are you sure though?” Scott continued, looking concerned. “Because I don’t think all this secrecy and having sex with random people is healthy for you. You’ve only had one real relationship and look how that one ended for you. Look I love you man and I really want you to be happy and true to yourself.”

 

“Ok I don’t need a rainbow pride speech right now. I can address that eventually, but right now I have to focus on the band and my career.” Stiles said.

 

“Man, you’ve said that before and look where we are. I’m worried about you. Talk to me about stuff, I don’t care and I’m your best friend no matter what.”

 

“Alright, sappy,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll let you know when I want to braid your hair and talk about boys.”

 

Scott laughed. “I know you're kidding but I would definitely be down. Allison thinks I’m great at braiding. I can do french, waterfall, fishtail; I’m basically a professional. I’m going to be such a good dad.”

 

Stiles sighed. “I’m sure you will be, buddy. I’m going to bed.”

 

“And you can be a good dad too!” Scott said. “Through adoption or surrogacy!”

 

“Oh my god. Good night.”

 


	2. There's nothing like the harsh and unforgiving light of day to make you regret all of your decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things continue to get heated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so this changes perspectives more than i would like it too, but it made sense with the plot so bear with me here. There is one section of Derek POV that is just hella short but whatever.

Stiles woke up a good hour and a half before his alarm was supposed to go off. The hotel room didn’t have shades that really blocked out the sunlight, so he woke up with the sunrise at like 5:15. It wasn’t like he had been sleeping all that well anyways, so he just got up. He tried to check twitter, but he had a bunch of notifications about Derek, and thinking about that made him feel kind of sad and angry and just generally bad, so that was off the table. Being left alone with his thoughts also led to thinking about the whole Derek thing so Stiles decided to go for a run. He put on shorts and running shoes and headphones, wondering why he didn’t do this more often.

About 3 minutes into the run, in the hot and humid summer air, Stiles remembered that he hated cardio and is not fit enough to run in anything other than short bursts. He slowed to a walk, panting and wanting to die, and saw a smoothie store across the street. That was much more Stiles’ speed, honestly.

He walked in the front of the store, it was empty except one employee and a couple sitting in the corner, wearing all black and large sunglasses. Under the woman’s floppy hat he saw a flash of vibrant red hair. _Lydia._

Stiles walked over to the table. “What are you doing here, Lydia? It’s like 6 am.”

Lydia lowered her sunglasses.

“That amazing little stunt you pulled last night required overtime, so I have been discussing how to maximize coverage with my business associate here,” she said, gesturing across the table

Stiles whipped around and, sure enough, there was Jackson grinning smugly at him. Stiles didn’t know how he didn’t recognize him immediately with his very gelled hair and strong douchebag cologne smell.

“What’s up, hothead?” Jackson asked.

Stiles turned to Lydia. “I hate him so much.”

Jackson’s eyes widened in fake shock. “Oh man, now I’m scared. I sure don’t want to mess with your evidently short temper.”

Stiles glared at Lydia.

 “Oh come on now, he’s just teasing,” Lydia said, hugging him with one arm. “Let me tell you the game plan we came up with.”

“… Can I at least order a smoothie first?” Stiles asked.

“Sure go for it,” Lydia said, looking him up and down, “Why are you wearing athletic clothes? You hate exercise.”

“Uh well, I actually forgot about that whole element of my personality temporarily,” Stiles said hesitantly. Jackson snorted

“Oh haha. I’m going to get a smoothie. Jackass,” Stiles mumbled.

Once Stiles had gotten his smoothie, Lydia launched into full plan mode. “So after the press conference, people are beginning to think that you’re kind of a dick, so what we need is to win back the hearts of your fan base by doing something really sweet. This sweet thing is going to be an Instagram post about your wonderful, admittedly fake but otherwise perfect, girlfriend. It can be our three month anniversary or whatever. I don’t really care. We can take a picture later today of me on your back or something. Next, you are going to go the Halefire show, and before you say anything you had to be there anyways because your show is right after theirs. You are then going to tweet the thumbs down emoji while backstage. It’s vague enough that people will talk, but not too vague that people will be confused. Derek is then going to respond with a selfie of himself, probably in glasses because people love that, sticking his tongue out and looking salty. Since both of you refuse to talk to each other, this is a way you can avoid that and at the same time keep the fire of the feud going.”

“Wow,” Stiles said. “That is detailed.”

“Well, we all knows what happens when I give any of you vague instructions,” Lydia replied.

“Alright that was one time and how where we supposed to know Liam would get so freaked out?” Stiles responded

“That video has 15 million views on youtube and was featured on Jimmy Fallon. I should have known that ‘take a picture of yourselves having fun in LA’ would make you immediately jump to a fun combination of _whipped cream flavored vodka_ and _petting zoo_. We aren’t discussing that failure anymore.” Lydia said, waving her hand dismissively. “Go put on an outfit that says ‘I sure do love my hot manager’ and make sure it’s your black jeans and a button down with the sleeves rolled up. Bye Stiles!”

Stiles honestly wasn’t a hundred percent sure how he ended up turned around and walking out, but Lydia kind of had a way about her where she just willed things to be done and then they would happen.

Stiles stopped by a bakery on the way home to pick up some doughnuts for his friends, and to kill some time so he wouldn’t be trapped in the same ‘alone with his thoughts’ situation that he was in before he tried to exercise.

When he got back, Scott was awake and blearily trying to figure out the coffee pot.

“No worries, dude, I got the coffee,” Stiles said, putting his cardboard tray of Starbucks cups. “And tea for Allison.”

‘“Dude, you’re the best!” Scott said. “What did I get?”

“White chocolate mocha with five pumps of syrup made with soy.”

Scott beamed. “Whipped cream?”

“You know it,” Stiles said, handing over the cup. “Plus dark chocolate curls.”

“See,” Scott said. “This is why we’re best friends.”

Kira emerged from the adjoining room looking like she could easily strangle a wolf with her bare hands, she really wasn’t a morning person.

“Coffee,” she mumbled.

“Dark roast, extra shot,” Stiles replied, handing it to her. It wasn’t that Kira was opposed to the more delicious items on the menu, he just knew from experience it was best to get caffeine to her in the most direct way possible.

“So I ran into Lydia and Jackass in the smoothie store earlier, apparently Lydia and I have to take some couple-y photos and post them on Instagram so I can regain my honor or whatever. Then we have to watch the Halefire show and I’ll tweet something vague and Derek will tweet something passive aggressive and then I can keep avoiding him,” Stiles explained

“… The Instagram thing is kind of a dick move don’t you think?” Scott asked.

“No, I’m really not sure what you’re talking about,” Stiles replied, walking towards his bag. “I have to get dressed or Lydia is going to be pissed, do you have a collared shirt I can borrow?”

“Yeah I have one,” Scott said, looking annoyed.

“Awesome, oh and it’s green! Perfect I look great in that color.”

* * *

 

It may have only been eight in the morning, but that didn’t mean it was too early in the morning for Isaac and Erica to be gossiping at top volume. Derek groaned and pulled his pillow over his face.

“Good morning, grumpy!” Erica said cheerfully. “I made coffee.”

Derek was not ready to be awake yet.

“So you had a fun night last night, no?” Erica asked.

Derek sat up. “How did you know that?”

“We didn’t actually” Isaac replied. “We saw your shirt on the floor and Erica thought we could get it out of you pretty easy. We did.”

Derek groaned again. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

Erica and Isaac exchanged a delighted look. “Who is he?”

“A bad decision,” Derek moaned. “That I regret very deeply.”

“NO!” Erica gasped. “You didn’t!”

Derek was silent.

“Not Stilinski,” Isaac said, shaking his head. “Dude, you could have gotten with every gay guy in the great state of California and you chose that asshole?”

“It was a one-time thing,” Derek clarified. “Believe me, clearly nothing has changed so I’m going to go back to not talking to him.”

“Honey, you’re a 10,” Erica said, sitting down next to him. “You don’t have to settle for a weak 7 who won’t even call you his boyfriend.”

“Thanks, what’s our schedule for today?” Derek asked in an effort to change the subject.

“Not much of a schedule honestly. Boyd was thinking gym, we were thinking Spa. Your pick really,” Isaac replied.

 “I guess I’ll do gym.” Exercise always made Derek feel more zen. “What time is call?”

“We have to be there by 5 to set up.” Isaac said.

“Alright,” Derek said, flopping back down, “I’m going to sleep for another hour or so and then I can go to the gym.”

“If sleeping can help you avoid your problems, than you go for it.” Erica said.

“Shut up, I am not avoiding my problems.”

“Hey, don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a better idea, I’m just saying, might as well ‘fess up to the whole ‘avoiding thinking about the regrettable thing you did’” Erica reconsidered “Or ‘regrettable person you did’, rather.”

Derek smacked her with a pillow.

“It’s not like we haven’t all had flings we regret,” Erica laughed. “They just usually aren’t with members of our rival band who we have history with.”

“Goodbye, Erica,” Derek grumbled.

“Oh, Jackson also stopped by. He and Lydia were up all night scheming and probably hooking up, knowing them, and they have a whole plan. You don’t have to, like, see Stiles or anything, but we do have to stay for the Indigo Pack show. I already called Scott and he said he could hook us up with Slurpees and gummy worms backstage, because he’s a homie, and you have to tweet or something? Not really sure.”

Derek just rolled over. Sounded like a problem to deal with when he woke up.

* * *

 

“Sup, Lyds,” Stiles said as he arrived at the pier.

Lydia nodded approvingly, “Nice outfit. I like the green.”

“I knew you would,” Stiles said, grinning. “How do you wanna do this thing?”

Lydia looked around. “I figured since we were at such a classically adorable location, we could do a few different things. We could try you kissing my cheek, feeding me cotton candy, piggy back ride, surprise hug from behind. There are so many cliché and heteronormative poses to try. It should be candid looking though.”

Stiles laughed. “Alright, who’s going to take the picture?”

Lydia gestured to the man holding the large, expensive-looking camera. He waved. “What? Did you think we were going to let Scott take them on his iPhone? We can edit it later to make it _look_ like that’s what happened, but we need a professional if we’re going to convince the internet we’re so in love that you couldn’t possibly be a dick.”

“Fair enough.”

They spent about an hour and a half taking couple photos, after some intense review, Lydia made her choice. The picture was slightly out of focus, making it look very candid. It showed Stiles laughing, arms wrapped tight around Lydia. He was lifting her up off the ground a little bit and her head was thrown back, also laughing, strawberry blonde curls in perfect disarray. Stiles looked good but Lydia, she was magnetic. For a long time, Stiles was convinced he was in love with her, and he guessed part of him always would be. He wasn’t in love with her in a romantic way, specifically, but she shined like the sun and it was hard not to love her.

She beamed down at her handy work. “This is amazing; you look great. There is no way people can be mad at you with a picture like this.”

“Thanks for being the best fake girlfriend a guy could ask for,” Stiles said, hugging her with one arm

“No problem. I mean it is quite literally part of my job,” Lydia laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll send you a caption when I send you the picture. It’s 3:20 so go get ready for the show and I’ll get the picture to you within the next half hour.”

 

When Stiles got back to his hotel room, the do not disturb sign was on the door, which meant Allison and Scott were either having sex or sleeping. He had walked in on them more than enough times to go to the other room instead. Liam and Kira were playing Mario Kart.

“How did you get a Wii in the hotel room?” Stiles asked.

“I tipped the hotel tech guy like 40 bucks,” Kira said, eyes fixed on the screen.

“There was a do not disturb sign on the door of my room. Do you think Scott and Allison having sex or is my room safe?” Stiles asked, sitting down on the bed.

“Oh no they are definitely having sex. Scott was in here like 10 minutes ago to brush his teeth and get a candle, which is actually, like, way worse than him actually telling us they were going to have sex,” Liam said, also not taking his eyes off the screen.

“Ah, gross,” Stiles said, wrinkling his nose. “We have to get ready in the next hour so they better finish up quick.”

“Yes YES YEESSSSS” Liam shouted as his car crossed the finish line, “Liam, victory, Mario Kart. Write it down. Fuck yes.”

Kira grimaced as pulled a sheet of paper out of the folder on the ground next to her.

“Whoa, what is going on?” Stiles asked, confused as hell. “Is there some project I didn’t know about.”

“Kind of” Kira replied. “We decided that to make the summer really epic, we were going to have a giant competition made up of lots of small competitions, we’re going to mark down every time we win at something and whoever wins at the end of the summer has to buy the other something outrageous and expensive.”

“Like _what_?” Stiles asked incredulously.

“Like a miniature horse. Or a jet ski. Or a bouncy castle. We haven’t picked yet.” Kira replied.

Stiles’ phone buzzed, it was the edited photo from Lydia plus a caption. ‘So lucky to have this awesome girl in my life, you’re the only one for me’ with a sunshine emoji and a red heart. Stiles saved the picture than opened Instagram on his phone. He typed in the caption and smiled; it looked good. He posted it.

* * *

 

Derek could hear Isaac, Erica, and Boyd whispering on the other side of the bus. Usually he didn’t pay attention to their gossip, but they kept looking over at him, which meant they were probably talking about him.

“What?” Derek said loudly. “Is my shirt on backwards or something? Why are you talking about me?”

“We aren’t talking about you, specifically,” Boyd said. “We were just talking about how Stiles is an asshole to you.”

Derek laughed dryly. “Nothing new there.”

“Did you seen his Instagram post? He’s really flaunting it isn’t he?” Erica said.

“I haven’t seen it yet, hold on,” Derek said, looking through his phone.

And there it was. ‘So lucky to have this amazing girl in my life, you’re the only one for me.’ Derek glared at the screen. The fact that Stiles had posted a picture about how Stiles was in love with his fake girlfriend right after hooking up with him didn’t make Derek feel awesome, but saying ‘you’re the only one for me’ like Derek didn’t even exist was just mean. Completely unsurprising, but mean.

“Fuck him,” Derek said, suddenly very angry. “You know what. Let’s drop a new single tonight. We are going to finish with ‘You’re on Your Own’.”

“Are you sure, man?” Boyd asked, concerned.

“I’m sure.” Derek grumbled. He looked at the picture again and clenched his fists. He hated Stiles.

* * *

 

The idea of having to watch Halefire perform for like an hour put Stiles in a weird mood. He was still mad at Derek about the breakup and the press conference, but he actually really liked watching the band. Back when he and Derek were a thing, Stiles went to a bunch of Halefire shows and hung out with Derek backstage before and after the show, so hearing their music made Stiles feel a little nostalgic and sad. On top of that, watching Derek sing was also very hot. Any teen magazine will tell you, Derek is very sexy, and when he sings, he becomes a god. A very hot sex god. Stiles and Derek had also actually had sex backstage more than once, so those fond memories were also thrown into the weird emotional mix.

“How are you feeling?” Scott asked, sliding into the bus seat next to him.

“Ugh don’t even ask.” Stiles replied. He could see the festival grounds out the window. Whatever he was feeling, he had to forget about it.

 _That was how I’m going to get through this,_ he thought. _Just don’t feel anything._

Backstage, Indigo Pack had their own little section with chairs and food that Scott had requested. Scott had been feeling like Slurpees and gummy bears, apparently.

“Dude, this is so much food,” Stiles commented.

“Yeah, some of it’s for Halefire. I texted Isaac earlier and told him I had him covered,” Scott said.

“Why can’t they get their own food?” Stiles replied, indignantly.

“Come on, Isaac is my friend. He and I used to eat this stuff like twice a day in college, so I figured I could water Halefire’s olive tree or whatever. You know, make peace.”

“I think you mean ‘extend an olive branch,’” Kira laughed.

“Yeah!” Scott said. “Lighten up Stiles. Here, have a Slurpee. It’s blue flavored.”

“I love blue flavor!” Stiles replied.

“Blue isn’t a flavor,” Liam said critically. “It’s a color.”

“Ok well ‘blue raspberry’ doesn’t taste that much like a raspberry so it must taste like blue. Check Mate.”

Liam opened his mouth to protest but was silenced by the screaming of the crowd. Halefire must have been on stage.

“How’re we doing tonight?” Derek shouted. The crowd screamed in reply. Halefire began playing the first chords of ‘Upside-down Miracles’, one of the songs that had made them famous. The screams grew louder. It was the sound of an audience that was already captivated, and they hadn’t even really started yet.

Derek began to sing and Stiles’ heart dropped into his stomach, much to his annoyance. His voice was clear and strong and just as amazing as Stiles remembered it. Stiles had been actively avoiding any Halefire music since he and Derek had broken things off, which took a bit of effort because their music was played on all the same stations as Indigo Pack. Hearing Derek sing again suddenly made him feel like nothing had changed and everything was fine and Stiles felt himself falling all over again. He squeezed his eyes shut and brought himself back to reality. He grabbed his phone and started playing doodle jump. That was probably the only thing that was going to get him through this experience. He focused all of his energy on trying to make his little doodle guy onto the next platform and tried to drown out Derek’s voice.

When there were like 10 or so minutes left in the concert, Lydia made them all stand move around and had Scott and Stiles warm up in this little room in the back so they didn’t get head rushes and fall over or sound terrible on stage.

“Ready?” Stiles asked Scott, grinning widely.

“Of course I’m ready,” Scott replied, putting his arm around Stiles.

“Are you going to pull Allison off drums and sing to her for ‘Darling You’re Everything’?”

“Dude, everyone loves it when I do that. We’re adorable.” Scott said. Allison gave him a high-five.

Halefire seemed to be wrapping things up. They had just played a couple of their most popular songs, so this song had to either be last or second to last.

Stiles heard Derek’s voice from onstage. “And for a special treat for this amazing audience, we would like to play you a new song we’ve been working on. It’s set to drop sometime in the next few weeks so here’s a little sneak preview for you, here’s ‘You’re On Your Own.’”

Stiles looked over at Scott, who looked just as confused as he did. Usually bands don’t drop new songs at festivals, so this was pretty out of the blue. Derek began to sing.

_God, you’re always leaving it out_

_Whispered spirit coded dream_

_You always have to paint your face_

_I know you are not what you seem_

_Hide away and bite your tongue_

_Tell me I’m a problem too_

_If you hide me right you can hide yourself_

_If you lie enough it might come true_

Stiles felt all the blood drain out of this face. The song was about him.

_I was sick and tired of that god damn game_

_But you would rather play than stay with me_

_You’re a coward_

_I don’t fuck with cowards_

_Good luck, you’re on your own_

“Scott,” Stiles hissed. “This song is about me. That asshole wrote a song about me.”

_You’re afraid of me because you’re afraid of truth_

_But at the end of the day the only monster in the closet is you_

Scott’s eyes widened. “Oh shit…”

_You think the world is breaking you_

_But you don’t even trying to stand_

_You’re dragging me down with you_

_God, I can’t do this I just can’t_

_Break yourself I don’t care_

_But I’m not staying anymore_

_I will not be a casualty_

_Of your twisted civil war_

He couldn’t leave. He knew he couldn’t leave they were going on in like ten minutes, and it sucked because all he wanted to do is storm off and angry cry in his room for a couple hours.

 _Not because I’m hurt_ , he told himself, _but because Derek is really taking this too far._

_I’m sick and tired of that god damn game_

_And you chose to play not stay with me_

_You’re a coward_

_I don’t fuck with cowards_

_Good luck you’re on your own_

_You’re afraid of me because you’re afraid of truth_

_But at the end of the day the only monster in the closet is you_

_You’re a coward_

_I don’t fuck with cowards_

_Good luck you’re on your own_

_You’re a coward_

_I’m done with cowards_

_Good luck you’re on your own_

The song ended, the crowd erupted in screams.

“Hey man…” Scott started, tentatively.

“Don’t,” Stiles warned.

Halefire walked off stage. Stiles walked over to Derek.

“Oh hey what’s up Stiles,” Derek said smugly as Stiles dragged him into the room they warmed up in. “I see you got the references in the song.”

Stiles slammed the door behind them. “What the _fuck_ , Derek.”

“What? I’m a musician. I write songs about the assholes in my life,” Derek replied, stone-faced.

“You actually used the phrase ‘in the closet’ in your song,” Stiles spat out. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Chill out, it was very vague,” Derek said.

Stiles was practically shaking with rage. “This is war. It’s a… musical war.”

He was aware he sounded like a child. Or possibly the movie Camp Rock 2. But Stiles was too mad to really care, so he decided to leave it at that. Honestly at this point there was no saving it anyways, so he walked out of the room.

Stiles walked back over to his friends, he could feel his face burning, so he assumed he was bright red. Scott and Allison walked over to him.

“Are you ok?” Scott asked, looking concerned. “We could give it a minute or two before we go on. Or we could say you’re sick and can’t perform tonight.”

“I’m fine let’s just do this.” Stiles grumbled, grabbing his guitar.

The manager lined them all up behind the curtain, he vaguely processed the sounds of screams coming from the crowd.

The band pushed out from behind the curtain and Stiles was blinded by the spotlight.


	3. Go Home, Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the fam(s)

“People are calling ‘You’re On Your Own’ the best performance of Twin Moons,” Erica said, high fiving Boyd. “I’ve gained a thousand twitter followers since this morning. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a hit, boys.”

“That’s great,” Derek said with as much excitement as he could muster, which was to say, not very much excitement.

“Aw are you still pouting?” Erica teased.

“No,” Derek lied. “I’m just… tired.”

“I mean it’s not like he’s usually gleeful,” Isaac pointed out. “I think I’ve only seen him laugh, like, twice. Unless we’re counting bitter, apathetic chuckling, in which case the number’s much higher. Because he is an asshole.”

“Be gentle,” Boyd told him. “He’s had a hard weekend.”

Derek scowled. “Oh, you can all go fuck yourselves. I mean really, do any of you _ever_ shut up?”

“Wow, someone’s on edge,” Isaac responded.

Derek sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, I just want to get home, so I can be by myself.”

Jackson looked up from his laptop, which he’d been face timing Lydia with for the past hour, no doubt plotting the next step in the ‘musical war’ (whatever the fuck that meant) that Stiles had declared. “We’re like two minutes from your apartment, so you can chill out.”

Derek looked out the window and saw that Jackson was correct. He hadn’t even noticed they’d gotten to LA. When the bus pulled over in front of Derek’s building, he grabbed his stuff and the driver handed him his luggage from under the bus. Boyd patted him on the shoulder before he went into his building. “Perk up.”

Derek half-smiled and trudged into the elevator. All he wanted was to be alone in his apartment and not have to hear about the band or the feud or Twitter and _definitely_ not Stiles. He just needed some time to himself for a day or two or possibly one hundred years. Derek opened the door to his apartment

“Derek!” Cora exclaimed. “You’re here!”

“Oh… Cora and Laura… you’re both… here,” Derek said, surprised. “Why are you in my home?”

“Good to see you too, brother of whom we love so much,” Laura chuckled.

“Seriously why are you here?” Derek asked. “And how did you get in?”

“Picked the lock,” Cora responded, winking and shooting him with finger guns.

“You _what_?” Derek asked.

“Just kidding, the doorman gave us your spare key,” Cora said. “Come on, I’m not that much of a delinquent.”

“She did tell the doorman that you called her because your cat had died and was rotting in the apartment, though,” Laura supplied.

Ah yes. The doorman had told him that he was sorry for his loss when Derek had walked in. It made much more sense now.

Derek pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ok, so we’re going to put a pin in the minor breaking and entering in the name of my imaginary cat and go back to the _reason_ why you are currently here, in my apartment.”

“We haven’t seen you in like two months, and you haven’t been returning my calls, so I have had to follow the press like some peasant and based on that, we were concerned you might be losing it,” Cora said.

Derek groaned, sitting down on the couch. “Why is everyone so involved in my personal life?”

Laura took a seat next to him. “We’re worried about you because we love you and want to help you.”

“Now you sound like Mom. I’m a grown person. I don’t need coddling.” Derek grumbled.

“You are my darling little brother in need of protection. A tiny infant Der-Bear who looks like he needs a good nap and to tell his sisters why he randomly released an angry song and is engaged in Twitter warfare.” Laura said, hugging him and smushing her face against his.

“Stop it you’re choking me!” Derek whined. He was experiencing intense déjà vu to his entire childhood of being boa-constrictor-squeezed by Laura.

“Here,” Cora said, handing him a bowl of soup or something. “We made some stew in the slow cooker.”

“Slow cook- how _long_ have you been here?” Derek asked incredulously.

“Since last night. Not important,” Cora dismissed with a wave of the hand. “So why is @derekhaleofficial talking to Indigo Pack and he-who-must-not-be-named again?”

“Oh my god, leave me alone,” Derek said.

 Cora squinted. She yanked down the collar of his t shirt and gasped. “Is that a faded hickey? Please tell me what I think happened didn’t happen.”

Derek buried his face in a throw pillow. Laura rubbed his back supportively.

“No judgment,” Laura said.

“Yet,” Cora added, eyebrows raised. “But tell us everything.”

Derek sighed. He knew that there was really no way for him to get out of this without filling them in, so he started at his conversation with Jackson about attending the press conference and told them everything he could remember about his weekend. He glossed over several details about when Stiles had come over after the conference because there was no fucking way he was talking about that with his sisters.

Cora and Laura both looked at him with mouths open

“Shit,” Cora said a few moments of silence.

“Stiles is really not a great person, but…” Laura trailed off.

Derek narrowed his eyes. “But what?”

Laura looked apologetic, “I don’t know… don’t you think it was a little… mean? To release a song like that?”

“You think _I’m_ being mean?” Derek asked. “Were you even listening to what he did this weekend, not to mention all the really awful things he has done to me in the past?”

“Yeah, but… he was scared,” Laura said. “I’m not trying to take his side or anything, obviously he was really terrible to you and really inconsiderate, but he did it because he was afraid of people finding out.”

“Ok, I don’t think you _really_ crossed a line, but you should lay off him a little,” Cora put in. “Like fuck him and he doesn’t deserve you, but I feel like you know that he didn’t intentionally try to hurt you.”

“It doesn’t matter if was going out of his way to hurt me or not. He did things that he knew were going to make me feel like shit and went ahead with them anyways.” Derek replied angrily.

“Ok, but you should tell him off in person, not in a vague song slam,” Laura said.

“Or do the good old fashioned thing and fight him in hand to hand combat,” Cora suggested. “People don’t physically fight enough these days.”

“I’m not sorry,” Derek grumbled.

“You have to empathize with him a little though. It’s not like you’ve always been a beacon of self acceptance,” Laura said, eyebrows raised. “I seem to recall a few years where you were basically a storm cloud of repressed gay anger.”

“That was different,” Derek replied. “I was like fifteen.”

“Yes it was, but you have to understand where he’s coming from,” Laura reasoned.

“Exactly,” Cora said. “You’re acting like someone who didn’t break a chair when we asked him if he liked Elton John.”

“ _Fine,_ ” Derek huffed. “I won’t write anymore songs about him.”

“Look at you being the bigger person,” Laura said, patting him on the head.

“I’m going to sleep for a couple years,” Derek said. “If either of you wake me up, I will not hesitate to throw you out.”

“Sleep tight!” Cora yelled after him, mouth full of stew.

* * *

 

Scott and Allison really sucked at having quiet conversations. Stiles could hear literally everything, it’s like they were unaware that the seat on the bus were very close together and Stiles was literally four feet away from them.

“He’s just been sitting there mumbling and writing things down since I woke up,” Scott whispered.

“What is he writing?” Allison whispered back.

“I don’t know. At first I was worried it was a suicide note, now I’m worried it’s a homicide note.”

“A homicide note?” Allison asked, laughing softly.

“Yeah, like a note you send someone in the mail with like a pig’s head or something to let them know they’re dead,” Scott replied. “Didn’t that happen in _The Godfather_?”

“You guys suck at whispering,” Stiles interjected loudly.

“Oh, hey sorry man,” Scott said, nervously. “We were just worried, because you haven’t really talked to anyone since the concert. And I’m pretty sure you haven’t slept or eaten. If I were to describe how you look in a word it would be ‘deranged.’”

“Wow, big word Scotty, did you learn that one on Criminal Minds?” Stiles asked, not looking up.

“No,” Scott replied, sounding wounded. “It was an SAT vocab word.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’m not writing any type of death note. I wrote a song,” Stiles said.

“Sounds… cathartic. What’s it about?” Allison asked.

“How Derek Hale deserves to burn in hell,” Stiles replied, glaring at the paper.

Allison and Scott looked at each other. “Alright well we’ll let you know when we get to your dad’s house.”

Stiles’ head snapped up. “We’re going to my dad’s house?”

“Yeah, he called me asking if you wanted to stop by,” Scott replied. “That’s why we dropped Kira, Liam, and Lydia off last night.”

Stiles looked around the bus in confusion. “They’re gone?”

“Wow you are really out of it,” Allison marveled. “But, yes, we’ve been invited to dinner at your dad’s.”

“Nooooo,” Stiles groaned. “Whenever I have dinner with my dad he’s all ‘been staying out of trouble Stiles?’ ‘Have you been reading? You need to read more, Stiles’ ‘Why don’t you visit me more often, Stiles?’”

“My mom’s going to be there too, so Allison and I are both going,” Scott said.

“Great,” Stiles said sarcastically. “Now I also have to answer questions about how many vegetables I’m eating or my vitamin whatever deficiency.”

“In Melissa’s defense, you’ve been eating pretty much exclusively Red Bull and candy corn this past week,” Allison put in. “And your under eye bags are so dark you look like you’ve been punched in the face. I worry about your health too.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Thank you for your concern, mother.”

“C’mon, it’ll be good for you,” Scott said, standing up. “Get you out of this rut.”

“I’m fine,” Stiles grumbled.

Scott shook his head matter-of-factly. “Emotionally healthy people don’t drink vodka at nine in the morning.”

Stiles looked down at his mug. “This is coffee.”

“Coffee isn’t clear, Stiles,” Scott said, patting him on the shoulder reassuringly. “Let’s not lie to ourselves.”

“Okay fine, maybe I’m a _little_ bit upset,” Stiles relented. “But I think I deserve to sulk.”

“We know that,” Allison agreed. “You have every right to be hurt. Which is why we’re doing something fun to take your mind off of it.”

“Fun?” Stiles scoffed. “I mean, sure, I love my father but this is the best thing you two could come up with for ‘something fun?’”

“Good wholesome fun!” Scott said. “Healthy, responsible fun!”

“Scott I love you but you’re really not selling this,” Allison said. “Describing fun as wholesome and responsible makes you sound like a youth group leader.”

“See,” Stiles put in. “Even your girlfriend thinks this is a bad i-”

“But,” Allison interrupted, “going back to Beacon Hills will be good for you. Letting you go back to LA to sulk in your apartment alone is a bad plan. Because friends don’t let friends go on depression benders and make questionable decisions on social media as a result.”

Stiles sighed because Scott and Allison were probably right. They were annoying as fuck and he wanted to kill them both, but they were pretty spot on with their predictions. Whatever. He had a song to write.

* * *

 

When they pulled up, Stiles realized he was actually pretty excited to see be back in Beacon Hills. It was nice to be around familiar surroundings and the energy was way less manic than Los Angeles.

“And there I had an asthma attack,” Scott said pointing out the window. “And there… and over there behind that tree…”

“Dude how could I forget,” Stiles laughed. “I spent like half my childhood looking through your backpack for a rescue inhaler.”

“Thanks for not letting me die, man,” Scott said, sticking out his fist for a fist bump. Stiles bumped it

They probably looked pretty stupid driving through the suburbs in a massive bus, but it was pretty much the only vehicle accessible to them because they were all under 25, which made it stupidly difficult to rent a car. The comically large bus rolled up to Stiles’ house.

 _I guess it’s not really_ my _house anymore._ Stiles thought. That was weird.

Stiles knocked on the door, or he would have, anyways, had it not opened just before he reached it. He was suddenly enveloped by a hug. Stiles grinned widely, he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his dad.

“Hey dad,” Stiles managed after his father released him. “Long time no see.”

“You know, when I agreed to this whole moving-to-LA business, you mentioned calling every once in a while,” his dad said, moving on to hug Scott and Allison. “Maybe we could give that the old college try.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Stiles mumbled sheepishly. “Is Melissa here?”

“Should be arriving any minute,” Stiles’ dad replied. “How was your music festival?”

“It was pretty good,” Scott answered. “The crowd was really fun and I think we performed well. We’ve been trending on twitter for, like, three days. The Halefire rivalry’s been getting us a lot of press.”

“Ah yes I heard about that,” the sheriff said, raising his eyebrows slightly. “You guys are just in time for dinner. I made some ravioli. I didn’t know what kind of crazy adventurous food you guys were used to now so I tried to go ethnic.”

Scott laughed. “I don’t think ravioli counts as ethnic food.”

Stiles could see Melissa’s car pulling into the driveway. Scott perked up in a very puppy-ish way. Scott didn’t talk about it as much as he used to when he first moved away, but Stiles knew he had really been missing his mom. Stiles knew from experience that Scott was definitely a homesick kind of boy. They went to summer camp when they were eleven and Scott had cried every night for a week. He imagined college had been a very similar experience. It must have been kind of a shock for Isaac to meet his brand new roommate and be immediately assaulted by tears and feelings. Apparently it was very bonding.

“Mom!” Scott exclaimed.

“Hey Scott,” Melissa said, hugging him tightly. “You look so much more healthy and put together than I was expecting honestly. I’m a proud mother.”

“Thanks, mom,” Scott laughed.

Melissa walked over to hug Stiles too, she pulled back and looked him up and down, frowning. “You on the other hand look like you’re on the brink of scurvy, when was the last time you slept or ate a vegetable?”

“Well-” Stiles started.

Melissa whipped around to Scott. “Why haven’t you been helping him?”

“I tried Mom,” Scott explained. “Allison even made a salad but he wouldn’t eat it.”

It was then that Scott’s mom seemed to realize that Allison was also in the room.

“Hi Allison, you look beautiful,” Melissa said hugging her too. “I can’t believe you’ve been spending 24 hours a day with these two clowns. You are a goddess.”

Allison laughed. “It’s fun most of the time.”

“Alright kids, we should eat before dinner gets cold,” Stiles’ dad said, eyeing Stiles. “And my son must eat extra helpings of salad before he even _considers_ dessert.”

* * *

 

Cora looked up from her laptop. “So how do you feel about signing up for like, Match.com or Grindr or something?”

“Cora!” Laura scolded.

“Nah it’s ok. I thought about that actually,” Derek said. “But then I remembered I’m famous enough now that people would probably recognize me and, you know, tell people I’m looking to hook up with men on the internet. So that’s a no go.”

“Oh right,” Cora said, eyes flicking back down to her screen. “So I’ll just, uh… delete this.”

“Why are you so meddling?” Laura asked, rolling her eyes. “Let me see it at least.”

Cora shrugged and handed over her laptop. Laura smirked and began to read aloud. “‘Derek Hale is a sensitive and passionate artist looking for someone with whom to share his life and spacious LA penthouse. The only thing more attractive than his soulful eyes and six pack abs is his large bank account.’ Wow Cora keeping it classy, I see. Oh and are all of these pictures are shirtless? Nice.”

“They’re not,” Cora protested. “There’s one where he’s wearing glasses and holding a cat.”

“Ah yes and I see you included a screenshot of his bank balance,” Laura mused. “That’s actually… _impressive_. I mean I didn’t think you were roughing it but this is just… so much money. Why wasn’t my Christmas present nicer?”

“How did you even see my bank balance?” Derek asked. “Did you take my credit card?”

“I mean it was just lying around. I figured you wouldn’t care.”

“Lying around in my wallet?” Derek asked, rolling his eyes.

“I am so glad we caught that before you put it on the internet,” Laura said. “Oh and here’s your net worth on google. It’s like you want him to get mugged.”

“Not mugged,” Cora clarified. “I’m trying to get people to hook up with him.”

“Hey, I do just fine on my own,” Derek shot back.

“Dude you have been mourning the loss of mayonnaise freckle boy for like two months, that on top of your standoffish personality and intimidating body language. I can’t imagine you’ve been getting much action,” Cora scoffed.

“Oh fuck off.” Cora had a point there. It wasn’t like he hadn’t gotten with any other guys since he and Stiles broke up, but it had honestly been like three people, two guys in a car and one in the bathroom at a club.

“Yeah come on tiger, get back out there,” Laura encouraged.

“I can’t believe my older sister is trying to help me get laid,” Derek mumbled

Laura looked taken aback. “I was talking about dating! Is that what you meant by action? I do not support sex with random guys, what if you get an STD?”

“Oh my god this conversation is so over,” Derek said, covering his ears and walking out of the room.

“C’mon!” Cora shouted after him. “Let’s go clubbing!”

“You are eighteen you can _not_ go clubbing!” Laura exclaimed.

Yep, Derek was about ready for his sisters to go home now. 

* * *

 

Allison ended up crashing at Stiles’ house. Melissa had converted the guest room into a storage room and his bed was pretty small for two people. Stiles also suspected that Scott and Allison were concerned if they left him alone he would stay up all night brooding or become an alcoholic. As if they could stop him anyways. If he wanted to become an alcoholic, he damn would. Stiles’ dad made up the bed in the guest room and got some extra blankets.

“So, what are you writing about?” Allison asked, sitting on the end of his bed.

Stiles scowled. “How stupid and horrible Derek is. In not so many words.”

“Ah, of course,” Allison said. “In like an angry way or a sad way?”

“I’m not sad,” Stiles replied, actively avoiding eye contact.

“Stiles.”

“I’m not,” he insisted. “I’m not sad, I’m just really pissed off that he would… you know…”

“Hurt your feelings like that?” Allison finished.

“No! My feel- I don’t … just shut up, Allison.”

“You know, your life would be a lot easier if you weren’t so emotionally stunted,” Allison pointed out.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Oh please. You’re starting to sound like Scott.”

“Fine. If you want to never talk about anything ever, I guess you can do that.”

“Why thank you I will,” Stiles said with a nod.

Allison sighed. “Can I at least hear it?”

“Hear what?” Stiles asked.

“The song you’ve been working on for the last forty hours.”

Stiles glanced down. He had been staring at it for too long to figure out if it was shit or not. He figured he might as well go for it.

“Sure, I don’t have anything beyond some vague ideas about tune and chord progression, but most of the lyrics are done,” he said. “Um, I can read it aloud, though. Tell me if it’s shitty.”

 

_You’re a stain on my life that I wish I could wash out_

_It was nice when it happened but I want to forget it now_

_I guess you must feel the same way_

_Not that you have anything to say_

_Not directly to my face anyways_

_You love to fuck me over from a distance_

_You go on all these stupid little rants_

_You say I’m a coward but here we are_

_You only talk shit from a far_

_You’re an ass without a heart_

_Remember you started this one fucker_

_I guess passive aggressive is your new thing_

_Because you’re an asshat and a liar_

_I know its ironic I’m doing it too_

_Gotta fight fire with fire_

_You cut the tightrope, here’s the drop_

_Freefall with no way to be caught_

_You’re the one that called the stop_

_So you don’t get to call the shots_

_I don’t think I have ever hated anyone more_

_You act like I care but you can bet your ass I’m sure_

_When I think about you_

_Its how Im better without you_

_I’d ignore you if I knew how to_

_Its easier when you don’t have to look me in the eye_

_Didn’t talk for months after you said goodbye_

_Now you act like you’re not to blame_

_You’re the one who’s playing games_

_I never liked you anyways_

_Remember you started this one fucker_

_I guess passive aggressive is your new thing_

_Because you’re an asshat and a liar_

_I know its ironic I’m doing it too_

_Gotta fight fire with fire_

_You cut the tightrope, here’s the drop_

_Freefall with no way to be caught_

_You’re the one that called the stop_

_So you don’t get to call the shots_

 

“Harsh,” Allison commented. “But it’s really good. Like, I think we need another verse before we end it, so we can all work with you on that. I’ve got some ideas about percussion, too. Oh and I also don’t think ‘asshat’ is the word you’re looking for.”

“Noted,” Stiles agreed.

“It’s just… Wow I can’t believe you busted that out in the last two days. I mean, it’s really good so far.”

“Thanks,” Stiles said without much emotion. He had kind of thought that writing a hate anthem would make him feel better, but he still felt like shit.

“How are you though?” Allison asked.

“I’m fine,” Stiles replied.

“I don’t think you’re fine,” Allison said softly.

Stiles bit his lip. “Ok, you win. I’m not fine. Everything sucks, Allison.”

Allison hugged him tightly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Stiles said, voice muffled by her shoulder. “You can keep hugging me though.

Allison laughed quietly and rubbed his back a little, she smelled nice, kind of like vanilla and baby shampoo. Allison was a great friend; she had this way of making everything feel less terrible. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his face into her shoulder.

“Thanks, Ally.” Stiles said after a while.

“No problem,” she said, smiling. “Get some sleep, ok?”

“I will,” Stiles said. “Good night.”


	4. I Am Doing Just Fine Thank You For Asking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everything is fine. Great actually. Just super

“So ‘Your New Thing’ drops in less than a week. I need you guys to start tweeting some lyrics, get the fans hyped so they preorder it,” Lydia said, eyes scanning her phone. “This is your first single in almost a year so we’re getting a fair amount of buzz already, but if we want people to actually buy the song instead of ripping it off YouTube than we need to really sell it.”

Stiles drummed his fingers on the table. “Do you have specific lyrics you want us to tweet?”

“Yep I can send them to you later today,” Lydia said, still not looking up.

“All of us or just Stiles?” Scott asked.

“All of you,” Lydia clarified, glancing at Stiles sideways. “Don’t want to give the press any funny ideas.”

“What kind of ‘funny ideas’?” Stiles asked.

“‘Who is the song about? A lover? An Ex friend? Lydia?’” Lydia mimicked. “But no one is going to get any ideas if _everyone_ shares the lyrics, so no worries there.”

Stiles huffed indignantly. Scott looked over at him, looking sympathetic and a little concerned.

“Alright sounds good, thanks Lydia,” Scott said. “We’re going to head home now, text me those lyrics.”

“Ok, expect them at around one,” Lydia said, examining Stiles. “It’s also not even noon so please don’t drink anything even vaguely alcoholic.”

Scott laughed uneasily. “Yep I’ll make sure.”

They climbed into Scott’s car. Scott glanced at him nervously again.

“Dude would you stop!” Stiles exclaimed. “Jesus, it’s like you think I’m about to start tearing out my hair or something! I am not having a breakdown.”

“Sorry,” Scott apologized. “You’ve just been kind of down lately, and I get worried.”

“I’m fine,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. “You have been acting like I’m this emotional wreck since that whole thing that I’m not talking about this summer.”

“No, no you’re right,” Scott said. “I just get worried when it’s brought up because I know it makes you sad-”

“I’m not even sad anymore!” Stiles interrupted in a voice that could be called aggressively cheerful.

“Alright, dude. I believe you,” Scott said, obviously lying. “So I want to get Allison a gift for our four year anniversary of the first time we went to the beach together, but I’m not sure what she would want. Do you have any ideas?”

Stiles sighed. “Buddy, we’ve talked about this. I really don’t see a point in commemorating every single semi-significant event of your relationship. I mean, why exactly do you feel the need to make a big deal out of a date you went on, what four or five months after you got together? It’s a little excessive honestly. Allison doesn’t even really celebrate any anniversaries other than the day you met, your first date, and when you decided to move in together, which is already an abnormal amount of anniversaries, I might add, so I really don’t think she’s going to mind if your present isn’t top notch.”

“C’mon, she likes it when I get her presents,” Scott replied.

“She really doesn’t though. Remember last month? When you took her to dinner and got her a new iPhone for your first-long-distance-phone-call anniversary? And she thought you had some kind of terrible news?”

“She thought I was trying to soften the blow of a cancer diagnosis, yes,” Scott recalled. “But this time I’m giving her two hours notice so she can enjoy the gift without the panic.”

“Oh and another thing: you go way overboard with the gifts. Like the live alpaca you got her. What was that even for? How could you _possibly_ have an alpaca themed anniversary?”

“We went to a petting zoo on our third date,” Scott explained. “And we love Simon like he’s our own son.”

“Ok long story short, I really think that celebrating something almost meaningless every other month is a little unnecessary and dumb,” Stiles said.

“But she’s the best girl, and it’s not like I’m short on cash anymore, so she deserves a present at least six or seven times a year,” Scott gushed.

Stiles made a vomiting sound. “You are the most disgusting person I know.”

“Why are you so cynical, bro?” Scott asked. “I think Allison and I have the right to do stupid frivolous shit together. We’re young and madly in love and have more disposable income than we’re mature enough to know what to do with. Why do you have an issue with me spending time showering my girlfriend in gifts and affection? What has love ever done to you?”

Stiles scowled out the window.

Scott’s face fell. “Oh uh… that was a dumb question. I’m sorr-”

“Don’t be,” Stiles interrupted. “Why would you apologize? I don’t even understand what you were asking, actually, or why it would be significant to me. I’m not upset.”

“I just thought with the new song coming out you might be thinking about… you know.”

“I am not,” Stiles insisted. “It’s been five months since… and two since I even saw him. Or thought about it at all actually. I got this great extension on google that replaces ‘Derek Hale’ with ‘fucktwat’ so, really, I’m all good. I’m great actually.”

Scott lit up. “Hey, you know what would be a healthy way to get your mind off of things?”

“I don’t need to get my mind off of anything because, like I’ve said a thousand times, I’m all good.”

“Whatever,” Scott said dismissively. “You should take up knitting again.”

Stiles hadn’t considered that. Knitting had always been good to distract him from feelings and stuff. Not that he needed distraction or even had feelings. Other than the feeling of having a blast 24/7. Yep, that was the only feeling he was currently experiencing.

“Alright maybe I could knit,” Stiles replied.

“Nice!” Scott said happily. The car pulled in to Kira’s driveway.

They opened the door to lots of yelling and screaming. Stiles walked into the kitchen to find Liam and Kira gathered around Allison who was… eating some soup. Allison was laughing softly while Kira and Liam were both screaming at each other incoherently.

“What the fuck is happening?” Stiles asked.

Everyone paused, apparently they hadn’t even noticed Scott and Stiles walk in.

“We had a chili contest. Liam and I both made Allison some chili and for some god forsaken reason she has chosen Liam’s chili over mine,” Kira explained, glaring at Liam and Allison. “I was unaware that Allison had such terrible taste in chili.”

“The judge has spoken!” Liam shouted. “Another win for team Liam.”

“Oh my god I thought this was just a summer thing,” Stiles moaned.

“We agreed to extend the deadline,” Kira said.

“There were just so many more things for me to win at,” Liam explained.

“Fuck off,” Kira laughed shoving him. “You know you’re losing.”

“Wow our dear Kiki dropping F bombs? Have I corrupted you?” Liam asked, eyes wide with feigned shock.

“Oh my god corrupted me? You’re like twelve, I could be your mother,” Kira shot back.

Liam looked annoyed. “You are three years older than me.”

“A lifetime really,” Stiles commented.

“I remember when I was a young child much like yourself…” Allison started. “So young, so foolish.”

“I believe it is past your bedtime, young man,” Scott scolded.

“OH MY GOD,” Liam yelled.

“There, there little one,” Stiles said, gently rubbing his arm.

Liam scowled at Kira. “You always start this stuff, Kira. You fucking suck.”

Kira gasped. “How can you say something like that to me, your sweet old grandmama?”

He flipped her off in response.

* * *

 

“So who was that nice young man who just left?” Cora asked smugly, handing him a bag of groceries.

Derek took the bag and turned away. “None of your business.”

Cora snorted. “Please. What was his name?”

“Oh yeah… that was uh…” Derek racked his brain. “Ben.”

“Ooooh so close,” Cora laughed. “I asked him in the hallway. His name was Christopher, you asshole.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Laura said, unloading produce from a paper bag. “But you’re becoming kind of a man whore.”

Derek felt his face getting hot. “Shut up. You’re the one who told me to get back out there.”

“I didn’t mean you should hook up with every pale freckly dude on Grindr,” Laura said, giving him what could only be described as judgmental side eye. “Whatever happened to ‘I’m too famous for random internet hookups’, huh?”

“Well, I use a fake name and if any of them figure it out, I just tell them that nobody would believe they slept with Derek Hale,” he said with a shrug. “It’s been working out great so far.”

“Wait, oh my god,” Laura said, grinning broadly. “What is your fake name?”

Derek choked on his coffee. “Nope. No way.”

Cora and Laura looked at each other, obviously delighted.

“Now we’re going to have to guess.” Cora exclaimed. “Is it exotic? Damien Caldevar?”

“Alejandro Whisper?” Laura suggested.

“Jason Fullthrottle?”

“Richard ‘Dick’ Maximus?”

“Ajax Wild?”

“Just ‘The Dong’?”

“Oh my god!” Derek yelled, his face bright red. Coincidentally, Laura and Cora were also bright red because they were laughing so hard.

“If you don’t tell us we’re doing to keep guessing,” Cora gasped, wiping away a tear. “Eduardo Lionheart?”

“It’s Daniel Hall,” Derek said quietly, burying his face in his hands.

“Nerd name,” Cora said. “You chose that when ‘Mustang Johnson’ was right there?”

Derek looked around for something, anything, to change the subject. “Did you buy me more groceries?”

“Yes we were out of milk,” Cora commented.

“Ok not _we_ are not out of milk,” Derek clarified. “ _I_ am out of milk. In _my_ apartment. Where _I_ live. _Alone without any other people_.”

“Idk about no other people. Ben/Christopher was _just_ here…” Cora said.

“Oh my god, it’s been so nice having you two here _all fucking summer_ but school is literally starting next week so I’ve taken the courtesy to book you both flights back to your respective cities on Thursday,” Derek said.

 “Aw no don’t worry about it. We could stay a little longer,” Cora said.

“Nice try, but Mom would kill you if you weren’t at school to be in the senior class photo,” Derek responded. “And Laura, don’t you have to like, plan for school or something?”

“Ok first of all, I teach the second grade. The curriculum doesn’t vary much year to year,” Laura started. “And second, I made about a billion lesson plans last year because, it being my first year, I got a little over excited about all the ways I could teach seven year olds about electricity and spelling two-syllable words. These little fuckers could learn about cumulonimbus clouds in so many different ways.”

“Do you know who’s going to be in your class yet?” Cora asked.

Laura’s face lit up. “Yes actually I got the class list and the little reports from their first grade teachers, it looks like a fun class.”

“Any Sampson Gregory’s?” Cora asked, Laura scowled at the memory. Sampson Gregory had been a real pain in Laura’s ass last year. He had once locked Laura in a closet for two hours and then didn’t even get in trouble because his family donated a lot of money to the school. Laura had hated him so much that sometimes when she cussed, she used the word Sampson instead.

“From what I can tell no, it really does look like a good class,” Laura said. “I’m looking forward to a year free of bull Sampson.”

Derek nodded. “Yeah that’s great, but you guys should really get out of my home.”

“Don’t be fooled he loves having us here,” Cora said to Laura.

Derek sighed. He did actually like spending time with his sisters, when they weren’t grating on his LAST FUCKING NERVE. Admittedly it was also nice to take some time off from the whole band thing without being completely alone.

“How is the video doing?” Laura asked.

“Uhh good,” Derek said. The video for “You’re on Your Own” had dropped last week, it featured a very shirtless Derek being painted red, and smashing a window with a bat. He had no idea how that related to the song but it looked cool and was getting good reviews, so whatever.

“I’m seeing a lot of vulgar tweets about it, so it must be good,” Cora supplemented. “I’m sure I’ll hear all about it at school next week. It’s truly difficult to be the little sister of the attractive male celebrity all your friends want to bang.”

“It’s hard to meet your little sister’s friends when they all want to bang you,” Derek replied. He’d gone back home for Cora’s birthday party back in February and was stalked by a hoard of rabid teenagers the whole night.

“God I know,” Cora said sounding exasperated. “Lucy is my best friend and even she told me she would do you if she had the chance. It took all I had not to tell her she was barking up the wrong tree. A gay tree.”

“All your friends are also at least four years younger than me,” Derek commented. “And friends with you so they must have bad taste.”

“Well if they’re into you than we already know they have bad taste,” Laura said.

“Ouch,” Derek said.

“Either way, if you cared at all about my well being, you should have worn more clothes in your video,” Cora stated firmly.

“Oh no, how will I repay you? Oh, I know: I’ll let you stay in my house and eat my food for over a month,” Derek said, shoulder-checking Cora gently. “Oh my gosh I have already done this. Looks like we’re even.”

Laura was still scrolling through the comments on the YouTube video, looking horrified. “These people know this is public right? Like children could stumble into this comment section. I mean most of the comments are fine but some of them are very inappropriate.”

“I don’t feel like I was doing anything that sexual in the video,” Derek said.

“Yeah I didn’t think it was _that_ bad,” Laura said. “The words ‘chaste’ or ‘pure’ don’t come to mind, but it was nothing too out there.”

“Do you think doucheface has seen the video yet?” Cora asked. “He’ll see what he’s missing out on.”

Derek laughed. “I kind of doubt he’s watched it; he is avoiding me.”

“But when he does see you and your inappropriate comment worthy video, I’m sure he’ll be very bitter,” Laura said, patting him on the back.

Although unlikely, Derek smiled at that thought.

* * *

 

Stiles was bitter. Very bitter. He had avoided the video for a couple days. This was hard because he followed a lot of other musicians and bands on twitter and a lot of them had retweeted links and pictures of the video. He could barely go online without reading some post about the video, and the fact that all the tweets read ‘fucktwat’ instead of Derek’s name didn’t help much.

Scott had left him alone for the day while he and Lydia went shopping for Allison’s four-year anniversary of going to the beach present. Nothing good was on TV and he didn’t feel like playing video games, so he had checked twitter and clicked on a link because fuck Derek.

This had not been a good decision. The video opened on close up of Derek’s face, singing, which was of course, very hot, and Stiles again had that fun feeling where he was sad and angry and also simultaneously insanely turned on. Stiles had to pause the video exactly three seconds in and get himself a glass of water. Because he was foolish, he decided to continue the video. The close up zoomed out to feature Derek’s, like, eight pack, and Stiles definitely had a boner and may or may not have moaned a little bit. It was really just downhill from there. The video was basically just Derek getting painted and slow motion clips of his rippling biceps as he broke things with a baseball bat, which was probably the hottest thing Stiles had seen on the internet since that one “Derek Hale Surfing in Malibu” video had surfaced last spring.

The video had ruined Stiles’ no Derek streak. He’d probably jacked off to the video six times in the last five hours. The portions of the day that were not consumed by thoughts of Derek’s rock hard abs and fantastic ass were largely spent hating himself because god damn he was weak. A sad weak loser. Scott still wasn’t back and it would just be too sad and weird to call Scott and make him come home to distract him from his intrusive gay thoughts.

He decided the best course of action would be to drive himself to the mall to the art supply store next to the food court.

“Hi is Ethel in? Can you tell her that Stiles is here and wants to talk knitting,” Stiles asked upon walking into the Craft Corral. The man nodded and walked into the back.

 Man, he hadn’t been in here since, like, last winter. They had redecorated slightly. A very small, grandmother looking woman came through the back doors, her eyes lit up when she saw Stiles.

“Ethel!” Stiles said, grinning broadly.

“Stiles! I haven’t seen you in ages,” Ethel said, putting her hands on her hips. “Have you gotten taller? You are such a handsome boy! Where have you been?”

“Sorry, I’ve been a little busy with concerts and writing and stuff,” Stiles said a little sheepishly.

“Oh that’s right, you’re a musician, so talented” Ethel exclaimed. She turned to the cashier. “He is one of my favorite customers, he’s such a polite young man who loves to knit.”

Stiles laughed. “Thanks Ethel.”

“Wait aren’t you the guy from Indigo Pack?” the cashier asked. “Oh my god I love your music.”

“Nope,” Stiles answered quickly. Damn, he was sure the ugly hat and pajama pants he was wearing would throw people off. “I am definitely not him. We just happen to have the same name. And profession.”

“No you look exactly like him,” the cashier insisted. “Like really alike.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot actually,” Stiles agreed.

The cashier looked him over. “But… you’re wearing an Indigo Pack tour t-shirt.”

Stiles leaned in really close. “Look buddy, if you can keep your mouth shut, I’ll sign whatever you want, deal?”

The cashier nodded in awe.

“So Ethel,” Stiles said, “I’m in the market for some new yarn, got anything nice?”

 “I am glad you asked, we just got a new shipment of some really nice stuff all the way from Paris!” Ethel said, reaching under the counter, she leaned in close and dropped to a whisper. “I haven’t even put these on display yet, I’ve been saving them for the good customers.”

“Well I’m honored to be considered a good customer,” Stiles whispered back. “Let’s see it.”

He didn’t really have a color in mind, but several colors were quickly eliminated. Derek wore a tee shirt that shade of green in the video. The walls of Derek’s apartment were kind of pale blue like that. Derek’s favorite colors were maroon and black. Derek had once eaten a popsicle that was red and Stiles found it very sexual. Derek had once pointed out a poodle that exact color of grey when they were in the park. Really the only colors that were passable at this fragile and pathetic time in his life were the yellow and the deep purple.

“I’ll take the purple and yellow,” Stiles said. “Throw in a new pair of needles too, I feel like I’m going to be knitting a lot.”

Stiles phone started ringing as he left the store. He knew it was Scott because there is no way he would go an entire day without calling Stiles and making sure he was still functioning. Also he knew because Scott had his own ringtone - the credits song from Avatar the Last Airbender.

“Hey man, how’re you holding up?” Scott said.

“Yeah I’m alright,” Stiles paused. “I watched the Halefire video.”

“Dude why did you do that?” Scott groaned. “Derek also looked hot as fuck in that video, like that guy is ripped, does he do crossfit or something? Sorry, unhelpful. Seriously why did you do that?”

“I’m not going to die every time I see Derek” Stiles whispered, because he was still at the mall and definitely did not want some girl from the sunglass kiosk getting in on his personal life. “It didn’t even affect me actually I’m fine. It’s whatever. I bought some yarn.”

“Hey! Good for you! You know I could use a hat,” Scott laughed.

“I’m on it,” Stiles said.

* * *

 

Jackson had called a meeting with the band to discuss their strategy for getting and keeping publicity the coming weeks. The group text said that he’d come up with a brilliant idea to promote the new video and keep Halefire in the press when the hype about the video died down. Then again, Jackson thought all of his ideas were god’s gift to mankind so it was hard to say if it would actually be any good.

“So do tell us why you’ve brought us all here,” Boyd asked, folding his arms. “Completely ruining my plans with Erica today.”

“Yeah, we were going to stay in bed all day and have sex,” Erica added. “So please let us know what big idea you have that’s more important than my sex life.”

“Thank you so much for that visual,” Jackson said sarcastically.

“At least they’re not the ones sleeping with Indigo Pack’s manager on our tour bus,” Isaac grumbled.

Jackson sighed. “Alright listen up, you dumbasses, because I came up with a great way to keep the fans interested and cultivate a certain image. I really think that this could become something that we do regularly, to stay exciting.”

“Ok yeah we get it just tell us what it is already,” Derek said.

“Three words,” Jackson said. “Secret house concert.”

Erica smirked. “What? Why would we have a concert and not tell anyone about it that’s so stupid.”

“No no you’re going about this the wrong way,” Jackson explained. “It’s not like you just show up completely unannounced. We have to leak the information to a select few people. Not the type to post about it or tell everyone they know, just the kind of person who will make sure the right kind of people are attending.”

Derek nodded. “Which makes it an exclusive event.”

“Exactly,” Jackson said. “It won’t be anything huge. Just a great party with everyone who’s anyone in attendance. Then they all post about it on Instagram and Twitter, so people start to look forward to these events. It becomes a thing that people talk about, the band gets more attention, and I make lots of money.”

“Yeah come on guys we have to help our poor friend Jackson! I saw you pull up in the _2014_ Porshe, like a street urchin, so I just knew you were going through tough times,” Erica commented. “Guys, we have to get Jackson his bonus before he turns into little orphan Annie, pre Warbucks.”

Jackson made a face at her. “The point is, I’ve pulled some strings and got access to a friend-of-a-friend’s huge ass mansion right outside LA at the end of the month. As far as house concerts go, it’s the perfect venue, and I’ve already arranged for food and booze and staff. The party is basically already planned. If you guys are in, that is.”

“Kind of sounds like we don’t have a choice,” Erica pointed out.

“See you’re getting the hang of this,” Jackson said. “Mark your calendars for August 28th and start making a set list.”

“When did you even have time to do all of this?” Boyd asked. “You only told us you had an idea yesterday.”

“Didn’t sleep,” Jackson replied, typing something on his phone. “It’s time sensitive; if we leave logistics until the last minute, we’ll have to settle. This essentially needs to be the event of the summer if we want to do this again in the future. Every detail must be perfect if this is going to be a success. On the off chance this all works out, secret concerts could become your thing.”

Derek was impressed. “Wow you’ve really thought this out.”

“Yes that’s because I’m very good at my job,” Jackson said dismissively. “Now, obviously you fucks can’t tell anyone about this until like, the week of. Well, no you can’t tell anyone ever, actually. I will handle getting people to attend, so none of you can breathe a word about this until it’s over. If one of you runs your mouth off and blows the secret, it stops being mysterious and exclusive, and we might as well call off the whole concert. Let me be perfectly clear when I say that if you guys ruin this for me I will cut your tongues out and wear them on a necklace, understand?”

“Whoa there,” Erica said, holding up her hands. “What reason do you have to be worried that we’d-”

“Mostly talking to Isaac,” Jackson clarified.

“Ah that makes sense,” Erica agreed.

“Alright first of all, ouch,” Isaac said. “I mean, you’re correct and that is a fair assessment of my secret keeping ability, but still hurtful. But yeah, I guess I’ll just stay away from paparazzi for the next few weeks.”

“Good plan,” Erica said, patting his shoulder.

“So what do you all think?” Jackson asked. “Are we doing this?”

Derek shrugged. “What the hell, why not?”

Erica’s phone buzzed. She looked at the screen and then tilted it towards Boyd, neither of them making a sound. Isaac looked over Erica’s shoulder “Oh shit! Does Derek know?”

“Know what?” Derek asked.

Erica punched Isaac in the arm. “Dumbass.”

“Does Derek know _what_?” Derek repeated, more forcefully.

“Um, how much have you been looking at Twitter this week, bro?” Jackson asked in what was, to Jackson, probably a gentle tone.

“You guys know I’m terrible with social media just tell me what it is,” Derek demanded.

“Indigo Fire just dropped a new single. I haven’t heard it but the lyrics I’ve seen seem like they might be a little… familiar to you,” Erica said, handing him her phone. “See for yourself.”

The group listened in silence to the new song. It was fast and drum heavy and definitely, without a doubt about Derek. When it ended, Derek immediately googled the lyrics.

“Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way,” Isaac suggested doubtfully. “Maybe _Scott_ wrote it about, like, his dad or something. They don’t get along very well.”

Derek glared at him and read aloud from his phone. “‘You say I’m a coward but here we are, you only talk shit from a far, you’re an ass without a heart’ alright, who the fuck does he think he is?”

“I guess he was serious about that whole ‘musical war’ thing,” Boyd mused.

“What kind of immature, self involved, petty little shit wou-” Derek cut himself off and took a deep breath. “No. Nope. Not going to let this get to me.”

“Way to deescalate the internal conflict, bro,” Isaac said. “Be the bigger person.”

“Jackson, you’d better be right about this whole secret concert thing being a success. You need to make sure everyone is talking about Halefire’s house concert instead of that stupid fucking revenge song. This isn’t just about getting press attention anymore; it’s about taking it away from Stiles and his damn pity party.” Derek glared at the image of Indigo Pack on the screen of his phone. “This asshole you know what? The next song we release should be called ‘Self Involved Fuckhead’ or ‘Talks Too Much’ or ‘Slobbery and Uses Too Much Tongue’”

“Ew,” Erica said. “I don’t think people would buy that song.”

“Alright, so everyone’s really on board for the house concert?” Jackson asked hopefully.

“Yeah Jackson, the party’s on,” Derek said scowling.

“I mean, sucks that that little dweeb is writing about you or whatever, but I want to let you all know this is great, and I’m going to buy myself a gold plated hoverboard,” Jackson announced, squeezing Derek’s shoulders.

“Wow Jackson you really know how to comfort someone,” Isaac said sarcastically.

“It’s fine,” Derek said. “This little shit doesn’t know who he fucked with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking about doing a flashback chapter from when they were actually dating? Thoughts?


	5. Lmao throwback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some filler plus some flashbacks (shown in block quote) for those of you wondering how these fuckers got to this point

Somewhere deep down, Stiles could understand why Scott was concerned. But, honestly, Scott was just overreacting as usual. Scott’s natural state at this point was worried about Stiles’ wellbeing. Was he a little stressed out about “Your New Thing”? Sure. There were a lot of questions flying around about what it was about. Plus, it had been three weeks and Halefire had yet to respond to the release of the new song in any way, which was certainly a bad sign. After a good deal of coercion from Stiles, Scott had asked Isaac if Derek was planning anything, but Isaac had only shaken his head so aggressively he actually hit it against a door.  So yes, Stiles was a little bit more on edge than usual, but Scott’s constant questions about feelings were getting really old, especially since he was actually doing alright. It’s not like Stiles was doing heroin or soliciting prostitutes or gambling or something. How could knitting possibly be a problem?

“I, um, love my new scarf,” Scott said, as he entered Stiles’ apartment. “Speaking of which, how are you?”

“I’m doing all right,” Stiles replied. “Why do you ask?”

“it’s just that, you know, when I suggested you take up knitting again I figured you would go about it in a… how shall we say, less obsessive manner than you did last time,” Scott said.

Stiles smirked. “What? How am I being obsessive?”

“You’ve made sweaters and matching scarves for everyone in the band,” Scott pointed out. Clearly he’d rehearsed this intervention. “My mom texted me and told me she loves the blanket you sent her. You’re holding a different half-finished hat every time I see you. I mean, look around your apartment! Who the hell needs a lamp cozy? That’s not a thing!”

“Chill out, man,” Stiles said defensively. “I’m feeling crafty; is that a crime?”

Scott folded his arms. “Dude, you’ve spend eight hundred dollars on fancy yarn alone in the last month.”

“Ok calm down. It’s from Peru and it’s really expensive, so it’s not like I bought two hundred skeins of yarn or something, just like twelve really nice ones,” Stiles shot back.

Scott looked perplexed. “That’s like seventy bucks per ball, what the fuck?”

“Um no some were much more expensive. I dropped like three hundred on the vicuña alone.” Wow that really didn’t sound better; he was not helping his case. “And… how do you even know that?”

“I checked your credit card bill.”

 “What? Why were you looking at my credit card bill?” Stiles asked.

Scott shrugged. “It was lying on your counter. Why do you care? I know for a fact you have access to my accounts.”

“Yeah, because your password to everything is ‘allison’ or ‘Allison1’; it’s not that hard to guess.” He thought for a moment. “That’s actually a terrible password… it’s probably why your identity gets stolen so often.”

“Huh… yeah I guess that makes sense, with being famous and all,” Scott agreed. “But that’s besides the point.”

“Alright you need to calm down, I’m fine; it’s just a hobby,” Stiles said.

“Yeah, but I know you and you really only do things like this when you’re emotionally distressed,” Scott said, throwing his hands up into the air.

“Oh my god I am not distressed; I’m bored. The song came out three weeks ago and we haven’t so much as gone to a bar since then. Find me something better to do and I’ll do that instead,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes.

“Ok fine, let’s go out tonight,” Scott said. He opened his phone and started scrolling through his emails.

“Why do you get party invites on your email dude, it’s like you’re an old man,” Stiles said, looking over his shoulder.

“Here,” Scott said, opening an email. “Matt sent me an invite to a, let’s see, a ‘secret mansion party’ on Saturday.”

“Who’s Matt?” Stiles asked.

“My weed guy!” Scott grinned. “Our weed guy, seriously you’ve never met Matt before?”

“Oh yeah!” Stiles exclaimed. “I didn’t know his name was Matt, I always called him ‘Kush Man.’”

“‘Kush Man’ that’s so dank, bro.” Scott paused and considered his statement. “Dude we sound, like, so white… Like I’m not even white but, man, I hear it.”

“Yep I heard it when I said it,” Stiles agreed.

“Alright, anyways,” Scott continued. “The email says ‘hey I thought you might be interested in a secret mansion party a couple of my buddies are going to, I don’t know much other than that its supposed to be pretty dope. I can send you the address if you’re down,’ Are we down?”

Stiles shrugged. “Sure, what the hell? Let’s bring the squad.”

 

  
Derek was starting to worry about Jackson’s wellbeing. The planning process of the secret concert really wouldn’t have been that bad if Jackson would let anyone help him, but he was too committed to having everything his way to let an event planner be involved. Truly it was too much work for one person to plan the entire party and continue managing the day to day activities of the band. Five days from the party, Jackson hadn’t slept more than four hours a night for a week and a half and had developed a persistent twitch in his left eye. Derek had to practically drag him out of his apartment to get some food at a local café.

“Do you need any help with anything?” Derek asked him for the millionth time after Jackson had fallen asleep while waiting in line for his third latte of the day. Jackson hurried down the sidewalk, drinking his coffee and frantically typing something into his phone while he walked.

“I’m doing fine,” Jackson answered, his voice edging on hysterical, as it had for the past two days. “I live for this kind of stuff. You know that.”

Derek did know that Jackson loved to plan things and actively sought out stressful situations. It was probably why he was such a good manager. Jackson had initially approached the band back before they had a record deal, after a gig gone horribly wrong. He essentially told them that Halefire clearly had talent, and that he could make them not suck. Boyd almost punched him in the face, but Erica, who was good at reading people, convinced them to look past his obnoxious sports car and trademark condescending attitude and hire him. Jackson was a pain in the ass sometimes, but Halefire would probably still be playing in shitty bars without him. He ran on probably Redbull and spite alone, but always got the band to a better place, through immense effort on his own part. Which is why his side affair with Lydia Martin – who was poised, well-planned, and always in control – really didn’t make sense to anybody. But given his own track record, Derek really wasn’t in a place to judge anyone’s love life.

“As long as you’re sure you have it under control,” Derek repeated.

“Everything is under con – hey buddy! What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing to my car?” Jackson shouted at the man leaning against his parked convertible. “What did you think I wouldn’t know? I see everything fucker. I hope you had your morning coffee because I will _fuck you up.”_

The man held up his hands and backed away quickly. Derek had to physically hold Jackson back from chasing him. “What you’re going to run away, you little bitch? Face me like a man!”

“You just seem a bit on edge,” Derek said, cautiously releasing Jackson’s arm.

“Why would you say that?” Jackson asked, getting into the car. “You just go home and finish up the set list for the house concert on Tuesday.”

“It’s on Saturday,” Derek corrected him.

“Obviously. That’s what I said.” Jackson sped away, cutting off another car and running a red light on the way.

As Derek walked to his own car, he got a text from Jackson. He pushed aside his concern that Jackson was texting and driving in his already compromised state and read the message. ‘ _Could you do the Only for Tonight/Being in the Dark mashup? People loved that shit’_ it said _._ Derek’s heart dropped into his stomach. Jesus, he’d forgotten about that. It was the first time he’d hooked up with Stiles. Jackson really must have been exhausted. ‘ _Nvm that’s half Indigo Pack wouldn’t work sorry’_ Jackson replied, catching his mistake. It was too late, Derek was already thinking back to performing that song, to writing the mashup. For the first time in months, he allowed himself to remember something about Stiles.

 

> It was actually Allison who’d initially suggested a collaboration between Halefire and Indigo Pack. It seemed obvious considering how much the two bands crossed paths as two bands in the same genre from the same state catering to the same audience. They were bound to work together eventually. But writing a mashup to perform at a benefit together was actually harder than it seemed. After hours of arranging and rearranging, the harmonies still weren’t worked out.
> 
> Soon, Scott, Allison, Derek and Stiles were the only ones left sitting in Derek’s living room trying to work out the first verse. And at quarter to two, Scott tapped Stiles on the shoulder. “Hey, it seems like you two have this handled, so the rest of us are going to peace out now.”
> 
> “You’re leaving? Why?” Stiles asked. “We’re not finished yet. Aren’t we supposed to have this done by Thursday?”
> 
> “Yeah but you guys don’t really need us here,” Scott insisted, putting on his jacket. “Allison is actually waiting downstairs in the car already.”
> 
> “Don’t you want to stay and help?” Stiles asked pointedly.
> 
> “Oh we aren’t helping much anyways,” Scott said as he opened the door to Derek’s apartment. “So we’re going to get going.”
> 
>  “Um yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Derek cut in, feeling as though he was interrupted the silent conversation Scott and Stiles were obviously having using only their eyes.
> 
> Scott and Stiles stared at each other for another moment.
> 
> “Alright I’ll see you at home, bye,” Scott said, rushing out the door as Stiles glared in his general direction.
> 
> Derek considered asking what that was all about, but decided not too put too much thought into the intricacies of Scott and Stiles bromance.
> 
>  “What if, during the third verse of "Hey Beautiful", you sing the chorus of "Seeing in the Dark" underneath?” Stiles suggested.
> 
> “No because you change keys right before that,” Derek contradicted. “It’ll sound weird.”
> 
> Stiles sighed in exasperation. “Well could you change keys?”
> 
> “No we changed keys after the bridge,” Derek countered.
> 
> “Alright well I don’t know what you are hoping for here,” Stiles said, annoyed.
> 
> “I really don’t think "Hey Beautiful” goes with “Being in the Dark”. It’s too upbeat and peppy, can’t you pull something a little more, I don’t know, emotional?” Derek replied. “The messages have to go together,”
> 
> Stiles groaned and started flipping through his notebook. “Ok, fine how about this one, “Only for Tonight” It’s pretty angst filled if that’s what you want,”
> 
> Derek raised his eyebrows, “Alright let’s hear it.”
> 
> “‘I see you there, across the room and already I am gone, all I see is necks and lips and lust’,” Stiles started. “‘And even together we cannot fit, I am a piece that belongs to no puzzle’.”
> 
> Derek nodded in approval. “Alright, I like this better, did you write this one?”
> 
> Stiles rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh yeah, no I did write this one.”
> 
> “What’s it about?” Derek asked.
> 
> “Oh, uh, you know,” Stiles said, avoiding eye contact. “I was at this bar and saw someone, uh, a woman, and she was really pretty, and we hooked up after, yeah, and I couldn’t be with her though because she was… vegan.”
> 
> “Vegan?” Derek asked.
> 
> “Uh, yeah, I couldn’t deal with like, soy and stuff,” Stiles said, squinting a little. “That’s really just not who I am, you know? Like, uh healthy is good and all but, like I just couldn’t handle all the…Tofu, anyways its like forbidden love do you think that will work?”
> 
>  
> 
> “Okay, forbidden love, here tell me if you think these lyrics work with yours,” Derek said. “‘Being with you is being in the dark, and every touch is light’.”
> 
> “Um yeah ok here in the second verse, ‘our touch is red and gold and black and bleeds into the air,’ that might work,” Stiles said, licking his lips. Derek subconsciously leaned in further.
> 
>  “So then you’ve got the chorus ‘I’m trying hard not to fall/with my back against the bathroom wall/ but your skin, your tongue my siren call/and I just can’t fight it now’,” Derek read over his shoulder. “‘I kiss your neck, we play the game/ Just want to hear you say my name/I tell you that we’re not the same/ but, then, no one will find out’ I like that.”
> 
> Stiles shifted so now he and Derek were facing each other. Stiles eyes were big and wide and his lips parted slightly. Derek definitely hadn’t been into him before, with all his sarcasm and the lame bandana he had been wearing, but now Stiles felt a lot more real and honestly it was really working for him.
> 
> Derek could hear Stiles breathing in sharply. “Um yeah thanks, yours is good too.”
> 
> “What do you have for the bridge?” Derek asked.
> 
> There was a silence for a moment, Stiles eyes met Derek’s gaze again. “I’m sorry what?”
> 
> “The bridge, can I hear the bridge?” Derek asked again.
> 
> Stiles opened and closed his mouth a couple times before starting.
> 
> “Fingertips running up my thigh and my mind is blank/ you don’t even know the things that you have taken” Stiles paused and looked up.
> 
> “Yeah that’s good,” Derek said quietly, his face inches from Stiles’.
> 
> “I… uh…” Stiles mumbled.
> 
> The silence was deafening then, but neither attempted to end it. Derek leaned in and their lips met. Stiles didn’t pull away.
> 
> Derek decided not to over think the situation and just kind of went with it. Stiles wrapped his hands around the back of his head and Derek kissed him like his life depended on it. Maybe it did, Derek felt like he might die if he didn’t explore Stiles’ mouth with his tongue. He also really wanted to get Stiles shirt off. And his pants. God was he horny. Luckily it appeared Stiles was on the same page, he broke the kiss and reached down to Derek’s waist and began lifting his shirt up over his head.
> 
> “Hey” Derek said, slightly out of breath. “Are you, like, down with this? I mean I am but I didn’t know if-”
> 
> “Yep,” Stiles said abruptly, cutting him off. He glanced down. “Holy shit you have like an eight pack.”
> 
> Derek laughed and helped Stiles pull his shirt over his head. He began kissing Stiles neck and jaw, determined to memorize every angle. Stiles moaned and swore under his breath. Derek could hear a steady beat of ‘Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.’
> 
> Stiles pushed Derek backwards onto the couch and began grinding down on Derek. Derek could feel Stiles’ dick hard against his crotch, Derek rocked his hips upwards and could hear Stiles whimpering slightly.
> 
> “Fuck we are both wearing way too much pants right now,” Stiles exclaimed loudly. He paused. “You know, not to sound desperate or anything I’m chill.”
> 
> Derek laughed. “You’re good, dude.”
> 
> He started fiddling with the button on Stiles’ jeans, and then took off his own.
> 
> “Oh my god, you look like a statue of a greek god or some shit. What the fuck.” Stiles said quietly, probably to himself. Derek leaned in and kissed him again, pressing his hip against Stiles’, rocking slightly. Stiles runs his hands down Derek’s chest and put his palms against Derek’s hip bones. Derek feels his dick throbbing, both of them definitely hard. Derek shifts off of him and runs his hand down Stiles’ chest. Stiles swore again before bringing his hands across Derek’s hips and reaching into Derek’s boxers to get a hand around his dick. Derek moaned loudly as Stiles jerked him off. His strokes were fast and frantic, but Derek was fine with that. He felt heat pooling low in his stomach. He pressed his mouth against Stiles’ chest when he came, because god damn it felt _awesome_. Derek exhaled, feeling lightheaded, and then reached down to get Stiles off. It took maybe two strokes before Stiles was coming, groaning loudly as he did.
> 
> They both laid there for a moment, breathing heavily.
> 
> “So,” Derek said, after a while. “That was…”
> 
> “Yeah,” Stiles agreed. Derek looked over, Stiles eyes were very wide.
> 
> “Hey,” Derek says, looking over at him. “How are you?”
> 
> “I’m good,” Stiles replied. He bit his lip. “You know, I think. I mean, felt great, I just…”
> 
> “We don’t have to do this again or anything-” Derek started.
> 
> “No, no god that is not what I meant at all! Wow I can’t believe that’s where you thought I was going with that.” Stiles rambled. “There’s just… a lot of things… happening so much,”
> 
> Derek looked over at him. “How about I can get you some sweatpants, and we can maybe talk about this, or we could not talk about it. Whatever you’re into.”

* * *

 

Stiles loved Scott to death, he really did. They’d been inseparable since elementary school and Stiles thought of him like a brother. But sometimes Scott was really fucking annoying. He was just too _nice_ , and he meddled far too much in Stiles’ life. Like how he just wouldn’t leave Stiles alone to sulk. At first it was nice, but dear god was Scott being too pushy. Scott was frequently too pushy. In fact, Stiles really blamed the whole Derek-and-Stiles-doing-it situation on Scott’s pushiness. He vividly remembered a conversation he had come to call ‘the beginning of the end’ in his mind. And the events which followed.

 

 

> Long ago
> 
>  “So,” Scott started, eyeing Stiles from the passenger seat. “Halefire seems pretty cool right.”
> 
> “Yeah,” Stiles replied. “They seem pretty chill. Erica’s really funny.”
> 
> “Oh definitely,” Scott agreed. “And Derek is cool too right?”
> 
> Stiles made a face. “Derek was driving me crazy yesterday,”
> 
> “Yeah I was wondering about that, why?” Scott asked
> 
> “I don’t even know he was just so… You know?”
> 
> Scott raised his eyebrows. “There was definitely some tension there.”
> 
> “God I know right, I just feel unexplainably…angry around him.” Stiles ranted.
> 
> “He is a very good looking guy,” Scott commented, looking at Stiles again.
> 
> “I know I want to punch him in his perfectly crafted jawline,” Stiles grumbled before realizing what Scott was doing.
> 
> Scott smiled widely, his eyes shining.
> 
> “No wait I-” Stiles stammered.
> 
> “I knew it! You like him,” Scott said.
> 
> Stiles’ face felt like it was on fire. “I can’t… don’t know where… how got that idea.”
> 
> Scott was glowing. “You have a crush on him!” he teased.
> 
> “If this conversation doesn’t stop right now I will drive this car off of a bridge,” Stiles said, literally more embarrassed than he had ever been in his life.
> 
> “Ok,” Scott said, still smiling to himself. “My best friend is in love.”
> 
> “Siri, where is the nearest bridge?” Stiles shouted.
> 
> “Maybe not _love_ yet, but I don’t know why you’re avoiding this,” Scott said.
> 
> “Oh, its only a mile away! Great, we could be dead in three minutes,” Stiles shot back.
> 
> “Fine! Fine I’m done!’ Scott said, raising his hands in defeat.
> 
> He wasn’t done though, the entire day before they went back over to Derek’s apartment Scott kept asking what he was going to wear and if he was excited and smiling at him like a fucking girl scout who was gunning for a sale. And Stiles was just so not ready to have that kind of conversation. If it had been with anyone other than Scott, Stiles would probably have left the country or something, and even with Scott it was a barely tolerable level of emotions.
> 
> They went over to Derek’s at around seven. Derek was the one who had opened the door.
> 
> “Hey guys,” Derek said, grinning in a way that made his eyes sparkle. Fuck.
> 
> Stiles already felt like he was being smothered and simultaneously having an aneurysm and they had been there for exactly three seconds. He was so not prepared to deal with this right now.
> 
> _This is anger,_ Stiles tried to convince himself. _These are heterosexual feelings of annoyance._
> 
> He just had to make it through this week. If could make it through this week, he could never talk to Derek again and he could continue his life.
> 
> It would have been easier to ignore Derek if Scott hadn’t been acting like an eighth grader trying to play matchmaker. He kept herding them next to each other on the couch and trying to bring up how good Stiles was at things. This was hard since Stiles was so painfully mediocre in most areas. Scott somehow managed to work in how great Stiles was at quarters, whistling, and line tag; Stiles glared at him from behind Derek’s back.
> 
> Eventually, thank fucking god, Scott ran out of material and went to go mess around with Allison in the kitchen. Stiles could finally focus on writing and getting Indigo Pack’s material to mesh with Halefire’s in a way that stubborn ass Derek would accept.
> 
> Soon, Scott, Allison, Derek and Stiles were the only ones left sitting in Derek’s living room trying to work out the chords. Allison and Scott hadn’t really been helping so much as whispering and giggling and glancing at Stiles every so often. And at quarter to two, Scott tapped Stiles on the shoulder. “Hey, it seems like you two have this handled, so the rest of us are going to peace out now.”
> 
> Oh my god, Scott was doing this on purpose. He was leaving them alone together. Stiles was going to die.
> 
> “You’re leaving? Why?” Stiles asked through gritted teeth, looking at Scott with wide eyes. “We’re not finished yet. Aren’t we supposed to have this done by Thursday?”
> 
> “Yeah but you guys don’t really need us here,” Scott replied, cocking his head slightly towards Derek. “Allison is actually waiting downstairs in the car already.”
> 
> “Don’t you want to stay and help?” Stiles asked pointedly. This wasn’t happening. He kicked Scott gently in the shins from behind the coffee table. How did Allison manage to slip out unnoticed anyways? These sneaky fuckers.
> 
> “Oh we aren’t helping much anyways,” Scott said as he opened the door to Derek’s apartment. “So we’re going to get going.”
> 
> _NO,_ Stiles communicated with his eyes. After years of sitting in silent detention and coordinating lies in front of their parents, Scott and Stiles had gotten pretty good at understanding without words.
> 
> _Dude you have to go for it,_ Scott gestured subtly towards Derek
> 
> _Do not. Do not leave me here with him,_ Stiles tried to say back, mouth clenched into a thin white line.
> 
> _It’s happening,_ Scott probably was saying, judging by the grin on his face.
> 
>  “Um yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Derek cut in, looking confused.
> 
> _I will kill you and myself I swear to god,_ Stiles thought at him, his entire body now tense.
> 
>  “Alright I’ll see you at home, bye,” Scott said, giving him one last shit-eating grin and rushing out the door as Stiles glared in his general direction.
> 
> It was fine. Stiles was fine. If he kept talking and working the entire night, it was impossible for things to get awkward.
> 
>  “What if, during the third verse of ‘Hey Beautiful’, you sing the chorus of ‘Seeing in the Dark’ underneath?” Stiles suggested.
> 
> “No because you change keys right before that.” Derek bit his lip in a really hot way. “It’ll sound weird.”
> 
> Stiles sighed in sexual frustration, hoping he just appeared exasperated. “Well could you change keys?”
> 
> “No we changed keys after the bridge,” Derek said.
> 
> “Alright well I don’t know what you are hoping for here,” Stiles replied.
> 
> “I really don’t think “Hey Beautiful” goes with “Being in the Dark”, it’s too upbeat and peppy, can’t you pull something a little more, I don’t know, emotional? The messages have to go together,” Derek suggested.
> 
> Stiles groaned and started flipping through his notebook. “Ok, fine how about this one, “Only for Tonight” It’s pretty angst filled if that’s what you want.”
> 
> Derek raised his eyebrows, “Alright let’s hear it.”
> 
> “‘I see you there, across the room and already I am gone, all I see is necks and lips and lust’,” Stiles started, beginning to recall why he thought of this one as angst filled. “‘And even together we cannot fit, I am a piece that belongs to no puzzle’.”
> 
> Stiles suddenly felt a hot wave of panic wash over him. He had picked the gayest song he had ever written. He had literally written it about being gay and having gay thoughts. How had this happened? _Dear god, please hate it._
> 
> Derek nodded in approval. “Alright, I like this better, did you write this one?”
> 
>  “Uh yeah, no I did write this one.” _Fuck. Why did I admit to that? Just say Scott wrote it, you dumbass._
> 
> “What’s it about?” Derek asked.
> 
> “Oh, uh, you know,” Stiles said, avoiding eye contact. How the fuck was he going to talk his way out of this one? Like he wasn’t about to tell Derek about how Scott had gotten them both fake IDs and brought Stiles to a gay bar for his eighteenth birthday. Stiles had to be virtually forced to go inside, but after he had deemed it dark enough and far enough away that no one would recognize him and downed six shots of tequila, it ended up being fun. Long story short, Stiles had hooked up with an attractive twenty-something named Miles in a bathroom while Scott chatted with a group of drag queens at the bar. It was so hot, that when Stiles had stumbled home at four AM, he’d drunkenly written a song about how it was so great and Miles and how, obviously they couldn’t be together because there is no way in hell that Stiles is going to be, you know, like that. He’d rediscovered the song a few years later and Indigo Pack released it as a part of their second album. It was one of those songs that most people liked but forgot about. Including, apparently, Stiles, who was now sharing his homosexual awakening anthem with a guy he was actively trying not to fuck.
> 
> _What do I say it’s about? What the fuck is a comparable situation?_ Stiles thought, racking his brain for solutions.
> 
> “I was at this bar and saw someone, uh, a woman, and she was really pretty, and we hooked up after, yeah, and I couldn’t be with her though because she was… vegan.”
> 
> “Vegan?” Derek asked.
> 
> “Uh, yeah, I couldn’t deal with like, soy and stuff,” Stiles said, squinting a little, really praying that Derek was buying this “That’s really just not who I am, you know? Like, uh healthy is good and all but, like I just couldn’t handle all the…Tofu – anyways its like forbidden love do you think that will work?”
> 
> “Okay, forbidden love, here tell me if you think these lyrics work with yours,” Derek said. “‘Being with you is being in the dark, and every touch is light’.”
> 
> Derek looked at him so hopefully and it made Stiles’ chest pound. They were sitting inches from each other, Derek and his _really_ nice ass were touching Stiles’ leg. Stiles inhaled sharply
> 
> “Um yeah ok here in the second verse, ‘our touch is red and gold and black and bleeds into the air,’ that might work,” Stiles said, licking his lips. Derek leaned in a little making Stiles feel like the room was closing in around him.
> 
>  “So then you’ve got the chorus ‘I’m trying hard not to fall/with my back against the bathroom wall/ but your skin, your tongue my siren call/and I just can’t fight it now’,” Derek read over his shoulder. Oh my god Stiles should have picked any other song that wasn’t about gay sex, all he could think about was Derek’s tongue and skin. This was not helping the situation at all.
> 
> “‘I kiss your neck, we play the game/ Just want to hear you say my name/I tell you that we’re not the same/ but, then, no one will find out’ I like that.” Dear god, Stiles pictured Derek’s lips on his neck and going down his body, and ok, that was not creating a helpful situation in his pants. He shifted slightly which unfortunately only brought his face closer to Derek’s
> 
> Derek could hear Stiles breathing in sharply. “Um yeah thanks, yours is good too.”
> 
> It was becoming very problematic in certain location of his body how much he was thinking about having sex with Derek.
> 
> _Dead puppies_ , he thought aggressively. _My dad, pigeons, the movie Shark Tale._
> 
> Stiles then realized that Derek’s lips had been moving. “I’m sorry what?”
> 
> “The bridge, can I hear the bridge?” Derek asked again.
> 
> Stiles opened and closed his mouth a couple times before starting, willing his brain to function at a socially acceptable and less gay level.
> 
> “Fingertips running up my thigh and my mind is blank/ you don’t even know the things that you have taken.” Stiles paused and looked up.
> 
> “Yeah that’s good,” Derek said quietly, his face inches from Stiles.
> 
> Derek’s lips looked so good and so close, Stiles wanted to get hit by a meteor and die.
> 
> “I… uh…” Stiles mumbled.
> 
> And then Derek kissed him, and Stiles felt like the earth was spinning twice as fast as it normally did…

 

Alright, _nope_. Nope he was done remembering _that_ , he wasn’t a masochist.

Stiles began knitting so fast that all he could think about was needle and yarn and not fucking up his scarf.

 

 

 


	6. When it Comes Down to it, This is All Kush Man's Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They all end up at the SAME PARTY? And they don't know about it? Gosh gee what are the odds??

According to Jackson, there were approximately four hundred people attending the Halefire secret concert. The secret aspect was pretty well kept. A few planning to attend knew Halefire was playing, but for the most part, the guest list was just high profile people looking to party. Jackson had dropped thousands on alcohol, staff, and a DJ for when Halefire wasn’t playing. The house, owned by a very wealthy friend of Jackson’s uncle, was an absolutely massive open concept mansion about twenty minutes outside LA. According to Jackson, it was built with the intention of holding a lot of concerts there, so in addition to space for dancing there was a fairly sizeable stage near the back of the house and the lighting Derek would expect in a nightclub. To top if off, Jackson had rented the house for the night for free because he was “Lennie’s nephew” and the owner was taking a year-long sabbatical in Prague. It was the perfect storm. Jackson was fully aware of this fact.

“You can’t win a Grammy for being the best manager ever, can you?” Jackson asked, admiring the four thousand dollar Rolex he’d bought himself to celebrate.

“Yeah yeah you’re the best,” Boyd said dismissively. “Hey Derek? I’ve got a question about the set list.”

Derek leaned over his shoulder. “Uh yeah, what is it?”

Boyd held up the set list. “Why are we opening with ‘You Talk Too Much’?”

“Oh I, uh, thought maybe we could play it,” Derek said as casually as he could manage. “To, you know, promote it before it gets released.”

Jackson choked on his Frappuccino. “You’re doing _what?”_

“Dude we’ve only played through that song like twice,” Erica pointed out. “We’re at least three months from even considering releasing it.”

“Ok yeah but think about it,” Derek pushed. “We have a secret house concert, and nobody knows we’re even going to be there, and then we give the audience a special preview of a song we’re working on? People will go nuts. We’ll be all over the news.”

There was a moment of silence.

“That’s… that’s not half bad,” Jackson said, thinking it over. “Yeah… it makes the audience feel special and build hype but people aren’t prepared enough to film it by any means other than shitty iPhone videos, which get posted in all of their low quality glory and by the time you release the new song for real, people already know about it and they’re dying to get their hands on a better quality version. Holy shit that’s genius. Do you think it’s ready for tonight?”

“I think so,” Derek said. “If we can run through maybe once or twice before tonight I’m sure we’ve got it. Guys? Thoughts?”

Isaac shrugged. “Sure what the hell, let’s do it.”

“Guys…” Jackson’s voice cracked slightly. “I’m going to make so much money.”

“Oh by the way,” Isaac added. “My weed guy Matt said he could set us up with a really sweet deal for the party. I told him he could invite a few people, though. His client base is pretty high profile, so that’s cool right?”

“Yeah whatever,” Jackson said, already browsing yachts online.

“Anyone we know?” Derek wondered.

Isaac looked over. “Huh?”

“This client base,” Derek clarified. “Does it include anyone we know?”

Isaac thought it over. “You know; I feel like someone we know recommended this guy to me... I can’t remember who it was though… It’s on the tip of my tongue.”

“Oh well, let me know if you remember,” Derek said.

* * *

 

“What the fuck am I supposed to wear to a ‘secret mansion party’, dude?”

“Not that sweater,” Allison said. “Nothing you’ve worn for the past month, actually.”

“Ok ouch,” Stiles replied. “That was uncalled for.”

“If you show up in sweatpants or something you knit yourself they won’t let you in,” Scott said matter-of-factly. “I don’t think you’ve worn real pants since July. Just try to look presentable ok? And comb your hair.”

“Well you two are being bitchy today,” Stiles retorted, pulling a flannel from his closet. “Alright, it’s almost eight-thirty and we’re picking up Liam from your place, so we should probably leave.”

“Are we getting Kira?”

“No she’s going with Lydia,

They left Stiles’ apartment and drove towards Scott and Alison’s. “Oh I told Liam he could get fucked up tonight if he wanted,” Stiles mentioned.

Scott looked worried. “But this party’s supposed to be insane. And he’s only seventeen.”

“Ok but we did way crazier stuff when we were seventeen,” Stiles pointed out. “And he went on this whole rant about how we treat him like a baby even though we’re all like the same age. And I told him it was all in his head and none of us gave gave a fuck what he did. And I’m telling you this because I know you _do_ give a fuck.”

“But Liam is such a lightweight,” Scott protested. “Remember Coachella last year? I just feel kind of responsible for him, right, Alison?”

Alison gave him a weird look. “Scott we’re barely two and a half years older than him. Like I guess he does live with us, but he’s our roommate, not our son.”

“He _is_ kind of our son though,” Scott argued.

“I told him not to act like too much of a douchebag so he should be fine,” Stiles said, pulling up in front of Kira’s building. “Just try not to be so overprotective of him. Hell, let’s extend that to me.”

Scott scoffed. “I am not overprotective towards you.”

Alison patted Scott’s shoulder from the backseat. “Scott I love you, but you’re _definitely_ overprotective of Stiles.”

“In what way?”

“You constantly checking my well being and interfering with my love life,” Stiles said.

“Can’t argue with that one,” Alison agreed, texting Kira.

Scott sighed. “Fine. I will avoid interfering with you and your love life tonight. We don’t even have to interact. Happy?”

Liam slid into the backseat of the car. “What are we talking about?”

“How Scott isn’t going to be such a tiger mom tonight,” Alison supplied.

Liam silently pumped his fist.

“I knew he’d appreciate it,” Stiles said.

“What is this party all about anyways?” Liam asked as they drove. “Your text just said it was some kind of party in some mansion.”

“A _secret_ party in some mansion,” Scott corrected.

Liam rolled his eyes. “Ok a secret mansion party. Why is it secret?”

“Like, what are we going to be doing there?” Alison added.

“We don’t really know,” Scott shrugged. “Matt didn’t give a lot of details. He just said he thought it was going to be the party of the year.”

Liam cocked his head. “Who’s Matt?”

“Their dealer,” Alison supplied.

“I’m sorry but we’re going to a ‘secret rave’ because your dealer told you to?” Liam asked incredulously. “If we’re going to like a crack den to be robbed or some shit, I swear to god I will never forgive you fuckers.”

“Nah don’t worry about it Matt’s super cool,” Stiles reassured her. “We talked to him earlier today and he promised it was going to be cool. Plus we bought a bunch of edibles if you guys want any.”

Liam looked perplexed. “Edible what?”

“What do you… edible weed, Liam. Its edible marijuana.”

“Right, right… so, then, you eat the plant? Like… a salad?” Liam asked.

“You see why I feel the need to protect him?” Scott demanded.

“Shut the fuck up, Scott!” Liam shot back.

“It’s like gummy bears that get you high,” Alison explained patiently, showing him the bag. “Do you want to try it?”

“If he doesn’t know what it is he can’t try it,” Scott argued.

“Shut up!” Liam repeated, indignantly shoving a few in his mouth.

“You’re going to get really fucked up,” Stiles predicted.

“Hope so.” Liam looked over at Scott in defiance.

“I think we’re here,” Stiles announced. Wherever they were, there was definitely a party going on. There must have been thirty cars parked in front of the house, a sprawling modern one-story, and a line of cabs and town cars trailed along the street waiting to drop off their passengers at the door. Stiles could hear the music from half a block away.

“Doesn’t look like a crack den, does it Liam?” Scott asked.

“Shut up.”

* * *

 

The party was going great. At one hour past the time the first guest arrived, the party was in full swing. The DJ was great, everyone was dancing, and the gratuitous amount of alcohol Jackson had insisted they purchase had already paid for itself. It was everything they’d wanted and more. Derek swore he’d seen Jackson shedding a literal tear upon realizing all his hard work had paid off. Unfortunately, the members of Halefire were not permitted to attend said party until after they’d played, lest they ruin the surprise. Thus they were confined to a back bedroom with a locked door to warm up quietly until Jackson came and got them.

“Sounds really fun,” Isaac said wistfully as he tuned his bass.

“We get to go after, right?” Erica asked. “Like the party doesn’t end when the concert does, does it?”

“God I hope not,” Derek said. “I’d be so pissed.”

Suddenly Jackson burst through the door. “I think I figured out which friend you share a dealer with, Isaac.”

Lydia stepped out from behind him, Kira following. “So this is what Jackson’s been planning all month.”

“Oh shit that’s right” Isaac recalled. He looked over a Derek with wide eyes “He was recommended to me by Scott.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Derek asked. “You’ve got to be joking. No one could be that god damn stupid.”

“I’m sorry! I forgot!” Isaac apologized. “I’m _so_ sorry, Derek… At least _he’s_ not here?”

Derek looked over at Lydia. “They’re all coming aren’t they?”

“They just arrived actually,” she confirmed from a quick look at her phone.

“Makes sense,” Derek said calmly. “So which one of you would like to shoot me in the head? Boyd? No?”

“We’ll just get them to leave!” Kira suggested. “I’m sure you don’t want all that drama ruining your event.”

“Drama…” Jackson mused.

Lydia’s face lit up so fast Derek could almost hear the _cha-ching_. “Drama like that, at an already exciting event, would really guarantee headlines. For both bands.”

“No,” Derek said flatly. “No you cannot force me to be in the same room as Douchebag Stilinski. No fucking way. I’ll refuse to play. Don’t fucking test me.”

“Fine, fine,” Lydia said. “We’ll get them to go, ok?”

Derek took a deep breath. “You’d better.”

* * *

 

“This place is awesome,” Scott shouted over the music. “I knew Matt wouldn’t steer us wrong.”

“Yeah dude,” Stiles agreed. The music was great, there were definitely some hot guys, and Scott was DD. It had the makings of a great night. Perfect to get his mind off of all the Halefire drama without having to knit something.

“Guys! We have to tell you something!” Kira exclaimed bounding towards them through the crowd.

“Hey Kira,” Scott said, hugging her with one arm. “What is it?”

Before Kira could say anything, Lydia cut in. “She wanted to say we heard there might be a band playing here later!”

Kira looked over at her in confusion. “But what about-”

“I know I’m really excited for this surprise band and also all the publicity this concert is going to get. I bet that would be really good for this band,” Lydia said with a winning smile.

“But-“

“And it would surely be a great night for everyone to confront things they’ve been avoiding,” Lydia added. “annoying us all to no end.”

Kira smiled tightly. “Is it though?”

Stiles stared at them in confusion. “What the fuck are you guys talking about?”

“Nothing!” they said simultaneously.

Stiles would have questioned them further, but Liam stumbled into the circle, carrying a tray of jaeger bombs and wearing a wide smile. “Hey guys, drinks, I have ‘em. They don’t taste good in my mouth but taste good in my brain.”

“You sure you don’t want to slow down, bud?” Kira asked as she took a glass from him, clearly amused.

“Hell no,” Liam said as he chugged his drink. “I feel fantastic.  Hey look, I brought drinks”

 “Oh you got one too many jaeger bombs, Liam. I don’t need one, I’m driving,” Scott said.

“What?” Liam looked down. “Oh no that one’s for me. I got myself two.”

Scott’s mouth formed a thin white line as he refrained from parenting Liam. “That’s awesome, bro.”

Stiles grabbed a drink off Liam’s tray and downed it. He was feeling comfortably buzzed, and fully intended on staying that way. This was an improvement, considering how a few weeks ago he preferred to be in a state he liked to call ‘turnt enough to forget’ as often as he could be.

Liam leaned over and rested his chin on Stiles shoulder.

“I love the classical era,” he murmured softly.

“Alright I’m going to get baby Mozart here a glass of water,” Stiles said, pointing towards the bar.

Stiles had been skeptical about the party, but he could admit that it was cool. The entire room (if you could call it a room, it was massive) was basked in a purple glow, several massive chandeliers dangled overhead, shimmering dimly. The place was packed with lots of very attractive, fit individuals. Very attractive, actually. There were like nine guys within shouting distance who would definitely help Stiles take his mind of other things.

“The biggest glass of water you can give me,” Stiles said to the bartender.

“Martini, on the rocks,” said a voice behind him. The voice belonged to an exceptionally good looking guy; Stiles believed he recognized him from a Calvin Klein ad. Stiles and Hot Model Guy made eye contact, “Hey you’re the guy from that band.”

“Yes I am,” Stiles responded “From the band, I mean. Indigo Pack. That is the band I am in. Stiles is my name.”

“That’s awesome dude,” the guy said. “I’m Brad.”

Stiles couldn’t tell whether Hot Model Guy – or Brad, that is – was giving off a friendly vibe or a gay vibe. He _was_ really well dressed, but then again Stiles, a real-life homosexual, had probably never dressed well in his life, so he couldn’t bank on that one. Would it be too weird to go to the bathroom to google this guy? “Nice to meet you. I’m Stiles. _Shit_ wait no I already said that. I’m sorry.”

Brad chuckled. “Don’t be it’s cute.”

So then they were gay vibes. But now Brad knew his name, which presented a unique danger. If they hooked up a little bit, would Brad tell the paparazzi Stiles Stilinski sucked his dick? Would he wake up tomorrow to the headline _‘Lead Singer of Indigo Pack Likes it Up the Ass’_? But then maybe he was getting ahead of himself. A little harmless flirting couldn’t hurt, could it? But why was Brad flirting in the first place? How did he know? Was Brad just confident or was Stiles acting gay? Did everyone know?

“Stiiiillleeess.” Liam appeared from behind, making Stiles jump. “Wassup bro?”

Stiles handed him the water from the bar. “Here you go, drink this.”

Liam stared at Stiles’ hand for at least ten seconds before grabbing the glass. “That’s so nice bro. I love you. Did you know I love you?”

“Thanks Liam.” Stiles watched as he tried and failed to drink the water, dumping most of it down his shirt.

Liam’s eyes flitted to the corner of the room. “No. Way. Is that a grand piano? Guys I’m gonna play us something. I’m gonna do it guys, watch.”

Brad and Stiles watched Liam steal Brad’s martini and stumble over to the bench, flex his fingers, and start playing some extravagant classical piece.

“Whoa shit he’s really good,” Brad said. “How do you know that guy?”

Stiles smirked. “Little known fact about Indigo Fire keyboard player, Liam Dunbar: he is a former child piano prodigy.”

This was true. Stiles and Scott had actually met Liam at what was essentially band camp when they were fourteen. Liam was a scrawny almost twelve and had been homeschooled his whole life and was very, very good at piano. He played a show with the California symphony when he was nine and had been featured on a PBS special about child prodigies. He was attending this low level, nothing special band camp with Stiles and Scott because he decided he wanted to be in a rock band. So, instead of going to the intensive in Vienna, he came to youth rock and roll camp to learn how to not sound more like Stevie Wonder and less like Bach. Liam’s classical training was a subject he preferred to keep hidden; nowadays he only busted out the hard stuff when he was intoxicated.

“Wow that’s really impressive,” said Hot Brad. “I saw him downing vodka shots like a champ a few minutes ago. I’m surprised he can even walk, let alone bust out whatever classical masterpiece this is.”

“He probably can’t really walk, he’s just very talented. Drunk Liam is more musically gifted than I am on any given day. Classical isn’t too bad; we don’t need to be worried until he starts playing Elton John,” Stiles replied.

Hot Brad laughed. Stiles laughed a little too, this was good for him.

“So what are you doing after this?” Brad asked, leaning in.

Dear god this guy was confident. Stiles’ mind went completely blank. “Oh I just… uh… you know what? I’ll be right back.”

Stiles turned on his heel and ducked behind the nearby wall, which Scott was, sure enough, pressing his ear against to spy on him. “Eavesdrop much?”

Scott grinned widely. “So how’s it going? He’s pretty cute, right?”

“I don’t know, man,” Stiles said. “He’s kind of freaking me out. Like why is he so pushy.”

Scott’s nostrils flared. “Don’t do this, Stiles, I swear to god.”

“Do what?”

“Oh please you know exactly what you’re doing,” Scott said. “You find a nice guy and then you find something wrong with him so you don’t have to commit. You’ve been doing it for years.”

“I’ve had relationships,” Stiles said defensively.

“And we all know how that went,” Scott retorted. “Because, by the way, you’re a commitment-phobe.”

Stiles scowled. “I am not discussing that right now.”

“You’re right; I’m sorry. It doesn’t matter now, bro, it’s over. Which is why you need a rebound. Desperately.”

“I do not.”

“You do. So much. So so much.” Scott paused. “Do I hear piano?”

Stiles looked over his shoulder. “Oh yeah that’s Liam. He’s really fucked up. But that’s not your problem because you’re not being a helicopter parent tonight.”

Scott’s eye twitched. “Ok fine but when I hear ‘Tiny Dancer’ I’m taking him home.”

“Fair enough,” Stiles shrugged. “Anyways, I don’t know about Brad, he seems like kind of a douchebag.”

“I mean no offense, dude, but _you’re_ kind of a douchebag,” Scott said.

“Ok but I’m a different variety of douchebag,” Stiles protested. “And how the fuck and I not supposed to take offense to that?”

“You don’t have to marry him, just give him a shot,” Scott said. “Not even him specifically, like _anyone_ would be great.”

From the other room, the piano suddenly stopped, replaced after a moment by a voice screaming “NAAAAAANTS INGOYAMAAAAAA.”

“Oh shit, he skipped all of Elton John’s discography right to the Lion King,” Stiles mused. “Do you think he’s on, like, acid or something?”

“Jesus Christ what is wrong with him?” Scott groaned.

There was a loud bang of piano keys and Stiles whipped around to see Liam slumping to the floor.

“I’ll go get him,” Stiles decided.

Liam was giggling beneath the piano.

“Hey buddy! How are you doing?” Stiles asked, patting his shoulder.

Liam looked up at him slowly, wearing the expression only found on very dopey drunk people.

“I fell unto the flur,” he slurred.

“Yep, Scott’s going to drive you home, and then you’re never allowed in public ever again,” Stiles said, helping him onto his feet.

“Nooooo,” Liam whined, sagging in Stiles’ arms. They half-carried him out the door, down the street and into Scott’s car. Several people took pictures, but Liam was just going to have to live with that consequence. Plus, if there was anything too bad, Lydia would bully the tabloids to make sure it never saw the light of day. It took a special type of person to be able to successfully blackmail tabloids, but hey, Lydia was awesome that way.

Allison and Scott both climbed into the car after laying Liam across the backseat. “I’ll drop off Allison and Liam and be back in, like half an hour.”

“Sounds good man,” Stiles knocked on Liam’s window. “Feel better, buddy.”

There was some incoherent mumbling and a spirited fist pump from the backseat.

Stiles walked back up the driveway towards the party. Part of him wished he had left with Scott: he really hated going to parties alone. At least Kira and Lydia were still there. After roaming through the party to find them, he finally found Kira at a table near the bar doing some of those flaming shots because she is a lowkey pyro. “Hey. Scott and Alison took Liam home.”

She finished the last shot and smugly took twenty dollars from a bitter guy in a snap back. “Yeah I saw that. I took some great photos. I think I’ll have one of them blown up poster size and give them to him for his birthday. How’s it going with that guy?”

“How’d you know about that?” Stiles asked.

“Dude have you seen the group chat?” Kira laughed. “Scott was sending play-by-play updates.”

Stiles whipped out his phone. “Well fuck.”

“Yeah, pretty embarrassing,” Kira agreed. “So anyways are you going out or something.”

“No,” Stiles admitted.

“Don’t be a pussy, just go for it,” she said. “What do you have to lose?”

“I don’t even know him,” Stiles replied. “Like we had a four second conversation at the bar, I don’t think he’s even my type.”

“But you had fun flirting with him,” Kira confirmed.

“Yeah,” Stiles considered. “It was… Nice.”

“Well, maybe you’re not going to get with this particular guy, but it means you’re maybe ready for some good looking dudes in your life,” Kira pointed out.

Stiles was about to respond, but closed his mouth. Maybe she was right, it had felt ok, good in fact, to flirt a little. It felt normal, he missed flirting. Maybe it was just because being buzzed made him horny, but he was ready to get laid.

* * *

 

“Alright guys, we’re supposed to be on in two minutes,” Erica said, addressing the group. “Everyone ready?”

Boyd shrugged. “Probably.”

“Great attitude, Boyd,” Erica said. “Let’s go.”

“I just wish we had more time to practice ‘You Talk Too Much’,” Isaac sighed. He opened the door and almost immediately slammed it shut.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked, reaching for the door handle.

Isaac blocked the door with his body. “You, um, you can’t go out there. Alright where the _fuck_ are Jackson and Lydia?”

“They’re in the bathroom, I think?” Derek said. “But they’re probably having sex or something. Why are you acting so weird?”

“Do not open the door,” Isaac warned Derek. He marched to the bathroom and flung open the door, where Jackson and Lydia were kissing passionately on the floor. “You two. Out here right now.”

Jackson stood up and started buttoning his shirt. “Calm down, Ruth Bader Ginsburg.”

Isaac paused. “What?”

“Oh don’t mind him,” Lydia said, pulling at her skirt. “Jackson’s on a _lot_ of acid. He thinks we’re in the White House.”

Jackson reached up to rub a spot on the wall, looking entranced.

Isaac turned back to Lydia. “Can you tell me why the fuck I just saw Stiles still here?”

“He’s _what?”_ Derek demanded.

“Oh well we decided it would be better for publicity of Indigo Pack stayed,” Lydia said apologetically.

Derek felt like he was going to pass out. “You did _what?”_

“I’m really sorry,” Lydia said. She opened the door. “You guys have really got to get going. Good luck. Bye!”

Derek pushed through the crowd towards the stage. Sure enough, there was Kira and Stiles standing near the bar. His presence was enough to really piss Derek off, he was considering just going over to the table and telling him to get the hell out when it happened. Derek witnessed the not-at-all subtle turning of Stiles head as he checked out the ass of some fuckboy walking by. Stiles was scoping out prospects at his god damn party. What. The. Fuck. He walked back over to Isaac, feeling an odd calm washing over him.

“Hey man, I’m going to go tell them to leave,” Isaac started.

“No,” Derek responded, curtly. “He’s going to come here and drool over some guy’s subpar ass, so we’re going to give him a show.”

“What?” Isaac asked. “Dude, why, what the fuck. Let’s not. This is the worst idea I have ever heard.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Lydia exclaimed.

Isaac looked to Jackson for support, but he was just staring vacantly at Lydia and giggling. “Go get ‘em cowboy.”

Derek walked back onstage, everything sounding very far away. The lights came on and there were collective noises of shock coming from the partygoers. Derek glared directly at Stiles, whose mouth was hanging open like a stupid fish.

“Welcome to the Halefire Secret House Concert,” Derek shouted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao sorry this took so long? i'm just so unbelievable lazy its ridiculous


End file.
